Saw a video about meditation the other day. Ok, am I really the only person who hates conscious breathing? No, I don’t want to feel the air going in and out of my lungs, I’d much rather be completely oblivious about the whole process! Whever I think about my breathing, actually, I begin to feel as though I can’t breathe. Guess who’s never doing yoga?
“You want to go from just existing to living” a woman quotes her meditation teacher. She finds this meaningful and it inspires her. The fuck? Am I also too hard on language? Incredibly jaded? Bah, humbug! I’m the least jaded person, ever. I don’t look down on the trite, unless it starts to think it’s insightful. Then it can just fuck right off. I love cheese, I do. You should see my poetry. There are just so many things that sound old and tired to me and not – it would seem – to very many others. Maybe I’ll let up and give words a chance from now on.
Anyway, it’s time for the soft racism of King Kong, yay! Grab that white lady. Off I go to watch.
*cleverly altered line from the Modest Mouse song, “Medication”
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