Ze Vagabond Maid

Where real things come from.

Again with the driving, and the insight. I was eating some chocolate on the way home with mint flakes in it. It was so so good. And as I was driving and crunching on the mint I thought, what is mint made from? 

Oh! goes my brain, of course! It’s made from crushed peppermints! 

And then I thought, but what is peppermint made of?

And then I remembered a plant that grows by the side of my house. They are mint plants. That’s when I realized that junior mints, and peppermint candies. They’re made from leaves.

It doesnt seem like a profound statement, duh! of course they are. And yet that mint was so melted and formed and reformed and twisted that I couldn’t even recognize it’s original form without minutes of thought.

I wonder what a remote is made out of? What our jewelry is made out of? What part of the tree does our paper come from? What about the fabric that makes up our clothing, the stuff we wear all day. What’s polyester? Rayon? What about glass? 

Whenever I get like this, I feel as if I am digging with my hands. Clods of earth slowly being scooped away until I can see the burning core of our planet. And I’ll never get there, and Ill never stop trying to.

Cultural difference.

I drove a lot today, and it seems when I drive I think a lot. I think about life. Today I was driving home after speaking with the woman who is the director of the school I am going to in africa. We met her in person and talked. She told me that many of the townspeople live a life that is almost incomprehendable to us, the privilaged people that we are.

So I, like the sane being that I am, decided to play a game. I stood on a balcony in a woman’s house in western NH and I said what does this room below me really need? Well for one thing it doesn’t need those paintings, or those china dishes. It doesn’t need the glass dishes either, or that rug, or those books. It doesn’t need the piano, or the piano bench, or the cushions on those chairs.

It doesn’t need that closet/dresser thing, or those candles. It doesn’t need the bowl to hold the wood for the fireplace, or the end table next to the couch. It doesnt even need the coffee table, or the chairs, and certainly doesnt need the fan. In fact this room, doesnt even need anything but a floor, in fact it doesnt even need to exist at all. 

And who are we to think that we are the average? These people were not rich but “living comfortably” as we like to say here in america. They are the average to us, the median. But we fail to see the skewed reality we live in. What to we need to make food? some food, maybe some water and some heat and a dish. Ask yourself how many things in your own house do you actually use every day?

Spite cake

Spite cake, is the most delicious cake ever. 

A Question

Today I was running errands and was driving to the bank on my way home so that I could put some checks into my savings. There was a black SUV behind me following so close that I thought it was going to hit me, it tailgated me like this for 5 minutes, into the parking lot of the bank. Funny how we were both going to the same place. I see a woman in green get out of the car, and go into the bank where I head like 30 seconds later. It seems like she has forgotten me completely and all this time I am wondering, should I say something?

So I fill out the slip, sign the checks and wait in line, the woman is talking to an agent and the next available one is right next to this woman. I notice a song is playing on the radio, You Found Me by The Fray. The song has been influential in my life in many ways, it inspires me to think of things I haven’t before. Now I am clarifying, I do not believe in fate in the sense of a being controlling anything, but I see the universe providing opportunities, and so I decided to take it.

So after my interaction, she was still there and I walked up to this complete stranger that I had bonded with through her unsafe driving habits and said: “M’am? Are you the owner of the black SUV?” “Yes.” she says, her face is flushed, she looks out of sorts. So all I say is that I would appreciate if she didn’t tailgate me, that it makes me uncomfortable and I’m driving my dad’s car. She looks at me and says that she didn’t even realize, and I assure her that it isn’t a big deal and I leave.

I hadn’t planned to say anything cruel to her before that, but I wonder, does she remember me right now? Will she remember me tomorrow? Does it even matter if she does? 

I have to get up at 9 tomorrow, and tried to go to sleep at 11, but no my insomnia was cranky today. I have a feeling im not going to bed for a while. So I am asking the question, why do you hate me insomnia, why?

2:22 am

Today is a day of forgiveness and renewal. Home at 2:22 am. Till then I was sitting in a car, in a parking lot until the early hours of the morning, talking with friends and watching the same cop go round and round on his route. I have the freedom to be whoever I want. This is why I love the summer. 

I literally wrote this on a napkin in the parking lot of a Buddhist Temple.

I want to lose my sense of sight because of all the things I’ve seen.

I want to lose my sense of touch because of all the things I’ve felt.

I want to lose my sense of hearing because of all the sounds that have drifted in my direction.

I want to lose my memory because of all the memories I’ve had.

I want to lose my mind because of all the things I’ve thought.

I want to lose everything because I had it so strongly within my grasp.

I want to lose my life because I truly lived it.