— human is? —
 

fingerprints on the cover of a book

Being human is figuring out the 'queen of clubs' is not Wilma ;)

A teen boy and girl kissing and laughing and spinning each other around in the water, droplets flying from their hairtips, seeing nothing but one another.

feeling guilt for anything

wearing shiny spots on the most-used letters on your keyboard

altering our brain chemistry through ingestion of toxins

doing the wrong thing for the right reason

procrastinating on a monday morning

the members of the audience cannot help themselves. the spectacle of the firemen racing the solo climber up the skyscraper causes them to spontaneously begin clapping in unison.

not knowing

being in pain, not being able to fix the pain, and deciding not to be in a bad mood after all.

Going swimming at a big fancy pool and spending hours clinging to the side and chatting with your friend until they shut it down and kick you out.

laughing

er(r)...

as human does

the old man letting go of life and slipping away as his wife of 40 years sits by the hospital bed holding his hand

h uman is.... loving this movie:


movie: the Diving Bell and the Butterfly
It is WAY better than anyone would imagine given its

subject matter

an airborne handful of copper coins tossed from the window of a rolls royce silver shadow, idling on the deserted marine drive, early on a warm july morning in brighton.

reading the same book over and over again for the sheer delight of enjoying well-stringed words

skipping stones

suddenly wondering how you made it to there without having an accident because you were daydreaming.

lowering metal canisters into the abyss to record the heartbeat of the earth

fvcking up and getting defensive about it

^good one, Coffee

---------------

hurting oneself by going to great lengths to avoid pain

human is blaming every other driver on the road for a traffic jam you find yourself enmeshed in

She keeps her crepey eyes shut tight and refuses to open them because nothing is familiar out there anymore.

a woman at the TESCO checkout, her shopping trolley filled with plastic 2-litre bottles of WHITE LIGHTNING EXTRA STRONG cider, as she smilingly shows me the rusty blade of the lock-knife in her handbag and tells me under her sickly-sweet breath that she's ready to use it to stab the man in front of her in the queue.

praying to God, but rowing for shore

a wise old woman nodding sympathetically to a younger one, who is fighting back tears.

wanting your children to have better parents than you had.

anchovy cravings

Spending every moment conscious and unconscious thinking about your lover.

accepting that your crush is self-destructive and learning how not to obsess about someone.

stale afternoon. your neighbour stands in her yard and watches the sky: her children are gone; her husband lost at sea; how she remembers them now is by fragments of beachglass, pearls and seashells in a vase that she protects with saran wrap.

Taking up meditation with the idea "there must be more to life than this".

the feeling you get after you taste the capsaicin, but before the heat hits your tongue.

she sees only pretty in the soft mirror, free as yet of the harsh glare of others' judgments of how she looks

the fascination in destruction

"Fish got to swim, birds got to fly, man got to ask himself why why why"