Saturday, March 31, 2018

"I'm flying in on a DC-10 tonight..."

(Kodak film)

While that song, Spanish Bombs, has little or nothing at all to do with the country of Costa Rica, the term is used in the song about Spain... oh mi corazón. And yes, we're flying to Costa Rica tonight, through Panama. We'll be gone for a week. I'm not sure if I'll be doing posts here or not. Maybe. I might not bring my computer with me. It's all just more noise to be hefted.

I scanned a bunch of black and white images yesterday and then backed up both of my computers and cleaned the memory cards in one of the the cameras I'll be bringing, after making sure I had imported all the pics from them. It's a nervous habit I have formed somewhat recently - that I prepare for the apocalypse before I travel anywhere. It's like the opposite of cleaning your browser history. I tidy things up in the event of calamity in my absence.

I'm afraid of one day lying on my death bed and regretting not spending more time pursuing my interest in pornography. My "bucket list" is just a URL link to a short video, maybe only twelve minutes and 39 seconds, that seems to explore one person's capacity for pleasure.

I think that's the subject of the piece, anyway; fascinating stuff.

Ha, well it made me giggle a little bit - time to pursue my interests in pornography. That's just silly. I have only ever looked at it out of intellectual curiosity and to evoke an ethical response. I promise. I watch it for the articles I hope to one day write.

Life is absurd and people pursue absurd interests. People are comprised of memories, secrets, and flesh.

In one way I am glad that this trip marks the end to my sabbatical. I have been far too insular for the past six weeks, perhaps a byproduct of spending so much time at home by myself, reading. I am struggling interacting with other people. My inner monologue is becoming my external voice. Even the type stuff I type here, which I would normally not allow in conversation, is just dropping out of my mouth uninvited in what must be called conversation.

I need to be around people again, I think. A little bit of solitude is wonderful, but it's also a thing used in prisons to punish the worst offenders in the form of solitary confinement. Like most people - I must assume, anyway - I'd like to live somewhere between those extremes.

I want being alone to resume being a choice.