Absurd Evolution

"I don't care about you and I honestly don't care about much. When the moment is right and I have gotten all the utility out of you that I can, I'm going to put knife between your thrid and fourth thoracic vertebrae. I'll put you down like the useless, space wasting cellular conglomerate that you are. So do we have a deal?" "Can, can I sleep on this?" He stammered uncontrollably, it was as if his frontal lobe were slowly becoming paralyzed with shock. "No, not really and honestly this isn't a yes or no opportunity. It's either yes or I kill you now. You know too much as they say." "Um, I wasn't really expecting this. This m-m-might be too much for me." "Then you are weak and aware of your weakness and do nothing to overcome it. You are the worst type of human. I should kill you now." Jeremiah reached for the silver hilted knife that was lying on his mahogany desk. It had several Pearls and Turquoise s

I love food. I have often said that food is life's greatest pleasure and I mean it. Sex is nice, but it isn't nourishing like food. Sex is merely the activation of highly concentrated neurons, followed by the release of some chemicals in the brain. Love is ok too. Love is a strong connection and bond between two individuals, and can be nourishing to the soul, but what the fuck is a soul? Food for me is beautiful. Food comes in thousands of forms, colors and shapes. My body breaks food down into it's constituent parts then breaks the bonds of these chemicals and gives me life. Food is one of the deepest connections that I have with the world around me. This month I will be doing a lot of research into Thai food. On the ninth of March I am having a massive Thai dinner, for some of my favorite people and through the process of learning about this food and how to cook it, I intend to learn a lot about Thailand. Food has always been closely associated with culture, spiritual

My fingers are firmly pressing the black, smooth keys that have been used by thousands of people since this keyboard was first plugged in to this computer. Countless emails have been sent. To whom? About what? perhaps some of the messages were expressions of sincere condolences at the loss of a loved one. Maybe another was an intense, dramatic story being told to a friend in order to catch up with another. Many of them have been sent to teachers, advisors, and the occasional dean. This keyboard has about as unique a story as each of the people who hammered away at it. I think a lot about the micro-dramas that each person goes through each day. These emotionally charged plot lines are all each of us have, and what we call our lives. Subjectively some might be better than others, or at least more entertaining. But can these dramas be weighed objectively? Of course they can, that just depends on which lens you look through. Surely one can understand that I am worth less to society tha