Habitual Fixation – Day 077

Monday 18 April 2011:

I think I may be starting to have a break-through here.  I ran out of gas three days ago.  Not only figuratively here, but LITERALLY.  My beige 1996 Toyota Camry is out of gas; and gas is over $4.00 a gallon here in Chico, CA right now.  That’s officially more expensive than milk.  I can’t really decide which is more of a tragedy here, tho…that we’re complaining about “expensive” gas when it comes from the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of other creatures (many of them hominids) that are far enough away to be “out of sight, out of mind..” or the fact that we have enough bovine slaves to allow us to buy a gallon of their life-force for less than $4.00 a gallon… Hmm.  Mind-churning.

So, as I said.  I ran out of gas.  And instead of complaining about how “expensive” it is and how I can’t afford it, I say good-riddance.  Good-FUCKING riddance.  I hope the damn thing never runs again.  Can I afford it?  Fuck NO I can’t afford it; I can’t afford to support a war of resources for something that I don’t even really NEED in support of laziness and world-domination.  NO.  I don’t need that.  I don’t WANT that.  Let me work the land.  Let me labor.  Let me love.  Let me suffer.  Let me be ME.

I am a human-being.  Homo-sapiens materialectus..  It’s sad, really…how far we’ve become removed from the system we used to thrive on.  We used to know the land through labor – we used to appreciate things more.  The ground was soft and vibrant beneath our bare feet.  Our skin was beautifully coated with nature’s best moisturizer: the natural human oils from our own skin; this not only protected us from long and vitamin D soaked hours in the life-giving sun but made us effective swimmers and hunters.

Not only were we shiny, smooth, and sun-kissed, we SMELLED nice.  Yes – you heard me.  We smelled and tasted delicious.  I know it might be foreign and just unsettling as hell for most of you to realize, but the natural smell of a human creature minus all the chemicals and the alcohol and smoke is a beautiful thing.  I don’t even really know how to explain it, other than it’s…just…right.

Underneath all the scented shampoos, conditioners (which really only serve to replace all the oils into the hair that the shampoo stripped it of..), body soaps, acne wash, shaving cremes, after-shave, body sprays, lotions, perfumes, and colognes we slather onto our skins, we each have a unique, distinct, wonderful scent that is ours and only ours.  None of this generic “vanilla/cinnamon-sugar” bullshit you smear on your bodies to cover up the identifier.  Individual.  Unique.  SPECIAL.  You.

On top of all that, let me just say that dreads are beautiful.  Incredible.  Wonderful.  Lovely.  Individual.  Do I fault you for brushing your hair out?  Umm.  No.  I do it too.  I will admit that I like the unnecessary  maintenance of it all, I haven’t been able to really let myself mellow out on it yet.  Underarm hair?  Legs?  Yea – I’ve gotten used to and nearly embraced all that.  Dread-locks?  Not quite there yet..

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