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Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.

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Integer, tangerine plane – Saranda kai Alo

 
 

“The new currency is honest, and forthright integrity of acknowledgement of actions that may have been poor decisions, but we all make them, and I can stand by the ones I have made as lessons, and living.”

 

On this great journey, as Coehlo decribed in his book “The Alchemist“, it is written. We are seldom aware of what we are looking for or what will come of it, but only fractions of those figments will make us sure of the whole picture.

I am no different, perhaps.

I am a man, that has stated this before, and has left all of these feta crumbs everywhere for a reason, perhaps you are right, and of course you are perfectly entitled to think so. I came here for you.

Just you.

To be surrounded, in a self-indulgent place one would argue. Surrounding your self and your actions, with the thoughts of those around you that profess to not give a fuck, but eagerly hide behind their multiple pseudonyms and hope to cast aspersions and doubt on the one that has travelled with you like the crumbs above.

Bread made from the flesh, worshipped.

Vanity, or in vain.

The vein that has been pierced is your own, like the mind looking in the gallows to discover some hidden treasure trove of reason that the Pirate Roberts gave to provide you with the vane.

Down by the river.

Water, washes away so much of all that can be dirty, and the euphemism should not be meant to Schadenfreude the little creatures. We are all little, just respect that in your own way, and start to ask yourself.

Is the skin thick enough or the harsh words considered testament?

*places crumb*

I think there is one thing that a man can do, and that is be truly open and true to himself – before it is too late. Before Mr. Cadwallader comes, we all find ourselves with some of the demons that exist, and we create this magical illusion that it singles us out, and that it really brings shame to us, and for this we are to atone for our sins – in guilt?

For what?

Resume Under the Influence? Drinking and driving kills, and it took decades – compounding decades, to cure what was a problem from the day the first wheels hit the ground. Still, we now see more deaths and injuries that result from R.U.I than DUI, and it is not even close. The economic damage would be an interesting undertaking, and I promise you, if there are some folks interested in looking into it as a small piece, as some kind of collaborative effort…well, that is part of what this brinesanity has been put here to do.

Attract some flies, to the shit – wait, sorry. Perhaps that did not sound right.

When we eat something, or have it pass through us for digestion, and this must happen, kind of the living part of who and what we are, has to be. Well, when this happens, we are left with the things that we used to nourish ourselves in mind, soul and of course body. The body, then will collect and discard the “physical” refuse of the products.

For lack of a better word.

The shit. Feces. Excrement. Dumps, and dumping’s.

Everywhere, one could argue that it has become an epidemic of sorts, but that topic is a slight removal from today, we are talking about the shit that comes out after consumption. The cardboard boxes, and the tin cans – the plastic and the foils. The cloth and the paper, the meat and the earthen delights, mixed with magical water and creating the whole circle of life…all leading to shit.

It would be only natural, for us, to be attracted to it.

Distracted you say?

Is that physical, or mental?

Interesting, yes, I like that tangent of reasoning. Please note, I am always happy to address tangents, at any point in time – you just have to be real, and ask me to do so. Past, present, and in the future I hope to be able to keep up that same logical illusion.

Is that like a delusion?

No, it is different, like the distraction of the buzzing all around of all of the flies that were once invisible, not only visible now, but seemingly invisible by their alias’s and their obscure hopes to be able to pray on the volition of other’s regarding the calling of questions upon them.

So your shit don’t stink, or is it that the crack house does not have internet? You want to throw stones at glass houses, but they are to be never used against the force field of intellect that surrounds the cardboard kingdom of your own existence? You think that answering to the anonymous voices, is a rational way to engage in a discussion, and that is ok if it appears online, but in real life you would cross the street if you saw this person?

Very good, very good.

I like that.

Makes the journey more interesting, the spectacle more arousing.

Like a snow globe, except with feta in it.

Shake me.

*abide*