creativity MONTH
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It should have been hot
It was decidedly not
Maybe sometime else -
today's lunch is "egg drop soup - the octo way"
my dad used to make egg drop soup a lot and I didn't "get" it but now I get it. it's a good food on the effort/reward graph. it's "pareto efficient". also it's a really pleasant meal and very easy to make and enjoy. you should make it yourself and seeingredients:
some - ginger
some - garlic
a - potato
some - chicken stock
a - scallion
splash - chinese black vinegar
splash - hot sauce
spash - soy sauce
some - gelatin (due to addiction to adding gelatin to soups and stocks etc.)finely chop garlic + ginger on your plastic cuttingboard that will imbue your food with microplastics. think about that factoid about humans having enough plastic in them to constitute a credit card, but do not let this spur you to action. fry briefly in a saucepan in whatever fat you have, but garlic in butter smells really good so you should do that. add stock (optionally add gelatin to cold stock before putting in to let it hydrate so you get a nice rich texture
) add a grated potato, you're supposed to just use potato starch or corn starch or something starch but I figure you should just add a whole potato, who are we kidding here, carbs are good for you and also it's raining out today and I want to eat something hearty. but you can easily omit the potato, honestly that might be better unless you specifically want to add a potato (which I do). simmer for like some amount of time until you get particularly bored or hungry. if you added the potato try to go for at least 20 minutes so it breaks down a bit, otherwise it can be way less. we're almost at the end. make sure the soup is on a mild simmer. beat the shit out of several eggs and pour the beaten eggs bit by bit into a spoon and fling them into the soup to make egg ribbons (this is fun - you need to do this part in a way that is fun or else you may as well be a dead person, you may as well be chatgpt on legs). put in bowl. slice a scallion (it recently came to my attention that australians, if I recall correctly, have a different understanding of what a scallion is than us americans. if you are australian - I don't mean that scallion) up into little slices and use them for garnish. steal your roommate's chinese girlfriend's black vinegar and add it along with some hot sauce to make a kind of hot and sour soup. eat.[I] ate the [soup].
There must be something very beautiful in my body,
I am so happy.- James Wright, Northern Pike (paraphrased by octo)
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saw some poems here, i thought they were pretty dope, but they didnt line up with what i generally consider a poem. im no poet but i tryed to write a poem how ive always seen them to be.
Up all last night thinking
About what i saw as i was blinking
if light is color then what is without
Others say nothing but i cant help but doubt
Last night i saw colors of lush forests and soaring visions
a future full of love and heart wrenching decisions
What it means i still ponder
but i now know that even in darkness there is wonder
and if i could reach out and speak to the darkness
It would ask me this
what is life without death
or an ocean without its depth
a jump when theres no gravity
thinking when your deep in depravity
but now as i close my eyes i see colors of bright
possibilities with no end in sight -
so i was gunna wait to do another thing, but i really enjoyed writing that first poem. it felt easy for me to get my words and thoughts out. at least in a way that didnt make me feel vulnerable. and as its now the next day for me, even if its only by an hour and a half, i took the time to write another.
Can't wait in line
Can't wait in line
I feel as if I'm in a world without time
My patience has forever been waning
Thoughts wriggle out my brain like worms after its been raining
I'm stuck in line
I'm stuck in line
I say I'm okay, if you ask I'm fine
But if you really look inside I'm crying
I'll say I'm fine I'll keep lying
Too much burdens to carry alone
But I don't know who to call or how to atone
Thoughts whirling in my brain like a hurricane or cyclone
Cant wait in line
Cant wait in line
Everybody took what's mine
At least that's how I've been feeling
Smoking weed, that's how I've been healing
But my wounds don't close so easily -
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I hosted a party made party stuff
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Something feels kinda off about this one but I've already worked on it for a while so I'm just gonna send it lmao. I do like the finished thing also, I just feel like it could be a tad better.
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status update
day: saturday
activity: learning to play slay the spire 2 (i suck), making salsa that is too hot, drinking 1 too many coffees
ignoring: work stuff, doing my taxes, side hustle with friends (more work), urge to create a more substantial piece instead of writing about my day and going back to playing slay the spire 2
imagining: being at a hotel on the beach and lying down on bleached sheets after a day alternating between the cold ocean and the hot sun
listening: hot air through vents
rating: satisfactory - average - acceptable -
i got carried away writing this, enjoy
Today I walked through my neighbourhood in the awkward period between night and dawn, when the sky is slowly, painfully shifting from inky black to the deepest shades of blue, both dark enough that it is difficult to see yet not dark enough that stars are visible anymore. It’s a shade I’ve seen few times in my life, and I basked in the opportunity to enjoy this rare moment.
Unfortunately, there were no people sharing this moment with me on the footpaths, but many – even at this ungodly hour – did from the comfort of their cars. Cars might be an understatement, however, given their ever-enlarging size, absurdly suited for the conditions of suburbia as they are. Their obnoxiously and unnecessarily bright lights cut through the darkness with enough energy to penetrate even the Mariana, blinding me and polluting the dawn sky. Even out of view I could not escape the clutches of these tanks, acting as a constant audial backdrop to what should have otherwise been a rare, silent moment. It soured my mood immensely that I can never truly know the concept of silence for as long as I live in a city.
Trying to push the thought from my mind I continued my aimless, lonesome journey deeper into my suburb. I watched with a strange sense of pride as the sun gathered its strength and broke free from the shackles of the night, painting the sky in beautiful spatters of light purples, rich oranges and deep reds. Magpies, miners and larks tried their best to herald this beauty to the world with a rich fanfare of song, but only I were their audience. It put a smile on my face, nonetheless, that these different species of birds – numbering about a dozen – got along well-enough, even for a moment, to sing together and presumably break their fast. My smile faded as, down the road from the park which the birds had chosen as their amphitheatre, sat an outdoors cat. I cursed its owner with every fibre of my being, and I imagined for a moment indulging in my anger and writing vicious letters for the entire street, warning them of the danger cats pose to our native wildlife and how selfish and evil they are to allow such an animal to roam free. Instead I sighed, and continued on.
I stopped at the intersection between two major roads, sheltered by an ancient, massive gum tree. Under its vast canopy of leaves I stood, enjoying the sounds of a light autumn breeze gently stirring its boughs, waiting for the lights to signal I could walk across without being another victim of a tank-Ute. I was fortunate as the traffic lights protected me, but a kangaroo did not share in my luck, its corpse dragged to the side of the road some few hundred meters away from the intersection. I see things like this almost daily, however, and I barely even register its deformed, bloody state as I crossed the road and decided to end my journey at a coffee shop.
A tired barista flashes me a smile and asks how I’m going as I put in my order. Handing over my card, I smile warmly.
“Living the dream! It’s a beautiful morning.”
Indeed it was. In many ways my morning was just another ordinary, beautiful day in suburbia, not so unlike many before it. But just barely different, barely worse. Still, it is also barely better than what it will be in a year. And another year. And another.
Because the sound and lights of bigger and bigger cars will drive off more and more wildlife. The cat will kill tens, if not hundreds of native wildlife in its own short existence, to the complete ignorance of its idiot owners. Statistically there will be dozens of more outdoors cats just like it that I didn’t see, also without a belled-collar to at least give the poor magpies even the smallest chance of survival. More and more kangaroos will die as more and more people move to my city, clogging our roads. To account for this more infrastructure will be developed, polluting the sky with more light and fumes, further passively poisoning mornings like the one I just had…
There was a land where summer skies, were gleaming with a thousand dyes. And grassy knoll and forest height, were flushing in the rosy light. But above all is human might – Australia!
