The revolution is just a t-shirt away!

Honestly if you've ever hung out with me for an extended period of time, you'll hear my cynical, and sometimes self-important, complaints about the human race. I don't openly dislike people, nor am I really a misanthrope--I just wish we were all a little bit better. I've been kind of complain-y lately, which is undoubtedly annoying, but this is something I seriously can't get over.

Wearing a t-shirt with Che Guevara's face on it is the most insidiously paradoxical thing one could do. First of all, if you're not fourteen, why did you buy that? What possible message were you hoping to send other than, "I'm a total counter-culture visionary with a vague knowledge of some far-off Latin American struggle that I'm trying to apply to my silly little privileged life." Spending $14.95 for a t-shirt made in Cambodia by children who get paid 5 cents a day while rich American clothing distributors profit doesn't really scream "Damn the man!"

What's most obnoxious about the whole Che craze is the fact that most people don't have any fucking context for the concepts they want to preach. Yeah. Dude looks good on a t-shirt; but he's just one piece of a really complex and gray history of a country that went through incredible political strife. I don't claim to be an expert on the intricacies of Cuba's story--but I'm also not wearing a t-shirt that indicates that I do have that knowledge.

I've seen various shirts and bumper stickers with the phrase "Stop Bitching, Start A Revolution" scrawled in a rebellious font on the front. I've always hoped the irony wasn't lost on the designers--that for most lazy consumers of this product, buying a vague t-shirt is the closest they'll get to being proactive about anything.

Stop buying t-shirts and do some fucking research. There--it even rhymes.

fleet, precious.

I remembered in the early hours of today when I was laying in bed with someone important that that exact moment would never happen again. I will never have the same conversation twice, never look at someone's face and see the same something again, never get the chance to hear anything the way I heard it the first time. Sometimes, when I remember, I try to pause myself and look around. I take in the room and the way a particular picture hangs and the way your face looks and the way their laughter sounds and the way the air smells, even; so right and rich. And it's never a perfect moment but I know I have to keep as many as I can.


No one lives breath to breath, but we all want to. I can try to stop everything for a while by tallying all the tiny paint particles on the ceiling, or counting to a million bazillion. Or watching the digital clock blink red in front of me, trying to predict when the numbers will shift, but never getting the timing quite right. I can try to do all of those things but ambulances still speed by and people still buy coffee and rabbits always run across the street and minutes happen and happen and happen and they never happen the same way, not ever again, not once. 


Sometimes I want to cry at how quickly everything moves; but most of all, I want to cry when I realize I'm always forgetting that.

Time for a new year

I think it's time to live through myself. I want to have stories to tell. I want to go somewhere and meet someone. I want to feel like everything that is happening rightnow is so fucking important and I want to taste the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you go down a steep hill. I want to do things that I'm not supposed to do. I want to utterly fuck up and learn and change.

I want to be independent of my inherent need. I'm tired of waiting for other people to fill my world with their anecdotes. I want my life to be my own.

It's hard--with friendships, relationships. You want to give pieces of yourself to the ones you love. But the most important barters we make are never equal, are they?