I Doubt the Cat Food Has This Effect
Frankly, if Friskies cat food had this effect, I would pack a canister for lunch everyday without a shame in the world. Either this cat is tripping in some catnip induced euphoria or someone should report the cat’s owner for animal cruelty because they dropped some shrooms in their cat’s food.
If I were a fish, turkey, or chicken in this LSD laced world and this drugged up cat was quickly approaching me, I would be swimming/scurrying/clucking/trotting at full speed in the other direction. I would not be dancing knowing that this cat is going to eat me.
I am really curious as to how the concept of the commercial came about. Advertising Creatives are a strange lot.
Valentine’s Day: A Day in Review
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Valentine’s Day. The Day that Hallmark and countless companies make it your obligation to show your significant other how much you value their irreplaceable love with greeting cards, gift cards, diamond jewelry, cell phones, fatty chocolate, and overpriced red roses. When you flip on the television, you are bombarded with the message that your girlfriend will feel that your love is not genuine if you do not buy her a new red Lexus with a Tiffany’s diamond necklace hidden in the glove compartment.
Too many of us use Valentine’s day as a crutch for all the times when we took our significant other for granted over the year. You got to let the one you love know how much you care about them every day of the year. This is not like a New Years resolution where you can be forgiven if you break that promise to go to the gym 5-6 days a week, quit smoking, eat more vegetables, etc. Love is a currency someone should not be stingy in spending every second of their life whether that love is spent through a hug, a kiss laced with morning breath, a home cooked dinner from the heart, or quiet conversation shared on the subway train. Come on people! Love does not have to be linked to your line of credit.
When I am fortunate to be with the one I love, I revel in the quiet moments that I share with her. They are enough for me. I don’t need a material gift to know that someone sees me as their alpha and omega. Just give me you and the love, and I’m good to go for a lifetime.
Yes, Valentine’s Day is a prime opportunity to let your significant other know that you love, but let this display of love come from a place of sincerity rather than force. Valentine’s Day is only one day of the year. There are 364 days in which you can let your love be known. Those days are more important than the one that falls on the 14th day of February.
Sade
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This post will be short and sweet since Big Brother and Kid Sister are watching me(I’m at work). I came across the following Sade Interview in the New York Times website. 
I have to admit that Sade was my biggest crush throughout my teen years. My heart would have skipped a beat and leaped for joy if she ever bestowed the fortune of serenading me. It seems that I lived under a rock for the past few weeks because I did not know Sade had been working on a new album called ‘Soldier of Love’. It’s always a treat to stumble upon a Sade interview since they are so rare. Besides admiring the consistency, smoothness, and strength of her voice, I respect the fact that Sade has been able to maintain an aura of mystique; she has and always will be an enigma to me. Even her interviews come off cryptic at times; she both hides and reveals herself in these exchanges. In an age in which every celebrity clamors to attend every red carpet event and award show. Be featured on numerous magazine covers. Have a reality TV show. Promote their own fragrance. Live a life that resembles a constant press tour. Update the world about their opinions and the mundane on twitter account. I respect the artist that attempts to maintain some semblance of mystery and privacy. The mere fact that Sade has been “living in a cave” for 10 years makes me appreciate her presence and the gift of her music after such a long hiatus. Her timeless voice is needed in this musical landscape in which music is groomed for commercials and ringtones. It’s amusing for me to think that Sade and Madonna both came to prominence during the same time in the 1980s. While Madonna continues to chase youth, reinvention, and boytoys. Sade remained still and consistent – the perpetual ‘quiet storm’, and she even looks better at her age than Madonna. Sade transcends the concept of celebrity, entertainer, and singer. She is a true alchemist, mystic, and artist following her own path in this overly commercialized musical landscape.
Winter of Our Discontent
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My thoughts race ahead of me. I’m already out of breath, and my thoughts are already out of my view. I am the tortoise. My thoughts are the hare. I hate waking up in the middle of the night like this. It’s almost 2am in the morning, and I wake up with a burning chest trying to grasp onto the remnants of a dream I just had. No luck. No pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Just a hazy mind – a burning heart – and the desire to rest my head yet again. Frustration is not the right word to describe this feeling. The word to describe this feeling with its multiple layers is simply out of reach. The only consolation that I have is that it is Friday – the threshold into a 3 day weekend. Let me try to go back to sleep…
I’m back again, and it’s 4am. I live close to an area hospital, so the majority of the residents in my building are actually residents (in the medical sense). As one one would expect, these residents work fairly strange hours. Between the hours of 3am and 4am, a female resident enters our apartment building with a slam of the front door and plods her way upstairs to her apartment. I do not mind her slamming the door so much as her heels pounding their way up the stairs. Maybe she is not aware of the stairwell’s great acoustics. Maybe this girl does not care if the rest of the world is sleeping (excluding me of course), and she is merely cut from a self absorbed lot. I don’t know; but, if this happens again, I am going to peak my head out and let her know that someone is ’sleepless in apartment 1R’ because of her. At the moment, I have so many thoughts still racing through my mind. Maybe that is why I cannot sleep as well. I’ve yet to master the technique of ’quieting the mind’. My thoughts linger as to preparing for a much needed trip, worrying about my parents in Texas, being a better boyfriend, job hunting, writing, photography, resumes, internships, graduate schools, civil service exams, exercising, what to cook for breakfast, new movies, new apps, my birthday, Bill Clinton, and Alexander McQueen…
Alexander McQueen. A damn shame. I was never one to keep up with fashion trends, but I have been familiar with his work in numerous passing
glances through the years. I’m not a fashionista or designer by any stretch of the imagination and spandex, but the works that I had the pleasure of witnessing were quite simply the work of a visionary. I never knew that clothing could bend, mend, and transcend in such a fashion. He created moving art rather than simply ‘clothes’. It’s frightening to know that a sadness so deep could reach someone that has attained such heights. Many designers continue to strive to the heights that McQueen was able to reach, and many of them fail. Wealth and fame do not fill the void or nurture the spirit it seems. My intuition and suspicion tells me that McQueen’s mom was his compass and north star and to lose her caused him to lose his way. On so many occasions, you come across individuals who appear to be living the charmed life looking down upon the rank and file only to realize that they’re merely standing at the edge of a cliff – waiting to fall at a moment’s notice. When I heard about McQueen’s suicide, I thought of another figure in the fashion world that committed suicide – Daul Kim. I hope to never know the sadness that these two have felt. I wish those two were here to overcome their depressions and immerse themselves in the beauty of life. All I know is that the two of them left the world too soon like a few that I’ve known. All I know is that I hope they have found peace on the other side even though they had much to live for on this side.
I need to sleep. KO is KO’d.
Cutting the Gordian Knot
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Before I write anything else, let me give you some background as to the origins of the Gordian Knot.
In Greek and Roman mythology, the Gordian knot was an extremely complicated knot tied by Gordius, the king of Phrygia in Asia Minor. Located in the city of Gordium, the knot came to symbolize a difficult problem that was almost impossible to solve.
According to legend, Gordius was a peasant who married the fertility goddess Cybele. When Gordius became king of Phrygia, he dedicated his chariot to Zeus and fastened it to a pole with the Gordian knot. Although the knot was supposedly impossible to unravel, an oracle predicted that it would be untied by the future king of Asia.
Many individuals came to Gordium to try to undo the knot, but they all failed. Then, according to tradition, the Greek conqueror Alexander the Great visited the city in 333 B . C . After searching unsuccessfully for the hidden ends of the Gordian knot, Alexander became impatient. In an unexpected move, he took out his sword and cut through the knot. Alexander then went on to conquer Asia, thus fulfilling the oracle’s prophecy. Alexander’s solution to the problem led to the saying, “cutting the Gordian knot,” which means solving a complicated problem through bold action.
I apologize for not returning to the page/screen yesterday as I promised to myself. Let me explain why.
As far as writing my collection of short stories and blog, I tend to overthink every word, phrase, concept, and idea to the point that i am left with a blank screen or a jumbled, convoluted draft. I twist and turn myself to the point that I inadvertedly bind myself into my own gordian knot. My frustrations with the words lead me to this point of inactivity. I sometimes wish to constantly edit my writings if I sense that they’re not well articulated. Sometimes, I’m tempted to delete a post altogether, yet i let the words stand however imperfect they appear (or at least according to me).
Just last night, I realized that the vise and predicament that I found myself in requires simply a bold, impulsive action – this Alexandrian Solution. Write! Write! Write!
Let me say that , all an all, this blog is both an experiment and an experience for me. For all I know, these words are for my eyes only, but I am welcome in sharing the experience with whomever stumbles across this page.
You can easily find bits and pieces of yourself on the internet. Some aspects that you wish to expose to the public eye; the others that you wish to remain hidden. As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed that I’ve tended to guard my own thoughts. I’m learning to be more open with my thoughts.
There was a time that I constantly wrote in my journals. I documented my thoughts, my fears. my triumphs, my failures, and my regrets. Yet, as I further immersed myself within this 9-5 existence, I no longer returned to the page or screen to write. In my opinion, words came more easily back then. I am trying to reach a threshold in which my words will flow again.
Now, allow me to go on a tangent in this post.
Let me be upfront is saying that I love to laugh. So, a few of my posts come off as a bit silly. I am of the firm belief that humor makes the world go round. I tend to remember the moments that I laugh to myself, laugh with friend, etc. So, if I can share a laugh with someone that stumbles across my blog – the more the merrier.
Every morning, I commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan to go to work. If you scan the faces of the subway riders on any given day- some wear a mask of sleep – others wear a glum guise – the rest are a combination of both. I did not notice this about the subway riders enroute to their morning destinations until a group of laughing, chattering, elementary school children and their adult chaperones came to share my subway car as they boarded the L train at Lorimer. The contrast between the other subway riders and the children was very pronounced. The children’s laughter, joy, and alertness made the fact evident that they were gladly anticipating their destination (wherever that may be) while the rest of us were awaiting our respective destinations with quiet, drowsy dread.
The children were fully present in the moment while the majority of us were steps away from slumber. When I say present, I mean that they were truly aware of themselves and their surroundings. They truly were engaged with one another while the lot of us were immersed in books, magazines, newpapers, and iPhones. I envied the children for I wish to have that feeling of wonder, joy, humor and acticipation with each destination that I embarked upon everyday (even if it’s only for work). It was a revelation to see these children laughing amongst each other surrounded in the company of others who appeared to be in such ill humor. The thought made me smile to myself. Each and everyday, I seek out ways to find humor with the world around me and to laugh and smile to myself as much as I can. I wish to encounter the present by being present myself.
Okay. I have go back to work. Cheers.
KO
