staring at my hands like a goddamn stoner, waiting for them to fing
People give me the dumbest looks when I tell them how much I love data entry, like I've just told a joke and they don'tt get the punchline. There's no joke though. I really love a big, juicy project that goes on forever and means nothing to me. I love the routine. It gets me away from home and all the distractions here: unmonitored internet, food, personal grooming products, an endless collection of toys and music, and the siren's call of my own dick that will surely someday lead me to ruin.
Once I'm in the zone, and doing my tasks on reptillian brain alone, my mind can wander and create. I wrote a dialog in m head, putting a mailer together and it will be the first original piece in months.
I really like msnual labor, little projects, big projects, everything but mopping and sweeping, but there have been occasions where even that didn't bother me. Today, as I stuffed envelopes downtown, my mind left me for a minute. I've been in a dreamy state lately, and I don't know where I was, but the first thing I saw when I come to is my hands stuffing an envelope. It was beautiful just watching them do their thing. My wrists seemed so... elegant, as I twirled them around to flatten a piece of paper. My arms were so... hairy, woulfd I notice that if I was someone looking at me, in my odd pink shirt with short sleeves instead of long? My hands were the stars of the show, though, and I watched them like a doting parent, as they did their tasks of their own volition, in broad waves like the arms of a magician, or a conductor, with the intricate skill of an ant or a beetle.
Sometimes I'm amazed at the simple shit this body is able to do.
Once I'm in the zone, and doing my tasks on reptillian brain alone, my mind can wander and create. I wrote a dialog in m head, putting a mailer together and it will be the first original piece in months.
I really like msnual labor, little projects, big projects, everything but mopping and sweeping, but there have been occasions where even that didn't bother me. Today, as I stuffed envelopes downtown, my mind left me for a minute. I've been in a dreamy state lately, and I don't know where I was, but the first thing I saw when I come to is my hands stuffing an envelope. It was beautiful just watching them do their thing. My wrists seemed so... elegant, as I twirled them around to flatten a piece of paper. My arms were so... hairy, woulfd I notice that if I was someone looking at me, in my odd pink shirt with short sleeves instead of long? My hands were the stars of the show, though, and I watched them like a doting parent, as they did their tasks of their own volition, in broad waves like the arms of a magician, or a conductor, with the intricate skill of an ant or a beetle.
Sometimes I'm amazed at the simple shit this body is able to do.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home