sitting space

I am letting myself go. Not in the sense of allowing myself to become unkempt and corpulent but I am releasing myself to Greaterness. To The Greaterness. Not of humanity but beyond humanity.

There is snow outside and it is colder than it has been all season. You can sense it most in the bathroom of this apartment so I wanted to write this in there but the only sitting space with a view out the window is on the sink counter. And since my wife is leaving me her half-packed belongings are occupying nearly all of the sink counter sitting space.

I began writing a poem this morning about explaining a satisfying pooping experience to a man that doesn't seem to understand me. This is a man I have sought out because I heard he could help me with a project but I quickly find out he cannot help me and so as a means of escape from this situation that is very uncomfortable for me I begin detailing how satisfying and often enjoyable pooping is. All of this is just for the poem of course.

But then I got to thinking. What kind of man writes about poop when his wife is leaving him? Or even better, what kind of adult writes about poop and calls it poop? Isn't the mature thing to do to call it shit? And more accurately, what kind of a human writes about talking about poop? And what kind of human writes about poop when his wife is leaving him? Well, at least I didn't write about shoving shit down his fucking throat because his idiot fucking face can't seem to understand he only makes things worse when he doesn't listen to me. I mean, that sounds more adult but not any more human. I am going for humanity. No. Like I said before: The Greaterness beyond humanity.

American Television

Well after an extremely short search on the internet I found out how to write on my blog using my IPad. Yes, this is being written on an IPad. One of the very first things I did when I bought this thing was open up my blog and attempt to post. I was unsuccessful and I simply assumed Blogger simply isn't compatible with this new, fangled thingy. So instead of utilizing the full spectrum of homogenized technologies inhabiting the IPad (such as the internet, etc.) I just pouted and decided that it wasn't worth it to me to take the three seconds to figure out the solution to this minor of minor problems.


So this is the first time I have ever jumped so quickly onto a new product band wagon. This is the first time I have even purchased an Apple product. Those who know me well might point out that I do own an IPod Touch but to them I must point out I painted my mother-in-law's laundry room and as payment she gave it to me because she felt owning an IPod she never used and an IPhone was a bit redundant. Speaking of redundancy, I am reading a novel by Muriel Spark and she keeps referring to all these men as being redundant and having a tough time making ends meet. She is british and I suppose redundant in Brit Land is synonymous with "unemployed" on this side of the pond. But Spark gives very few clues to suggest this and I am no expert in the field of vernacular of the modern Britain. It probably took me far too long to figure out this simple semantic issue and perhaps she was writing with a purely British readership in mind but I still felt put off by the whole thing. I suppose, even on this dinky blog, I write far too "American" and use several phrases that would confuse the world's masses if they weren't being pumped hours of American Television every day.