Emblem Parade

I color outside the lines.
And I try to avoid applying adjectives to myself, because one can never step into the same river twice; language can never pin down our flavors, tones, and textures. There's so much more to me beyond what you and I think we see in a person. And when we think we see some thing, we should assume that the potential for the opposite thing is strong. I consider all our proclamations and stands with a grain of salt. I wish we'd all learn to cut each other some more slack.
I'm glacially slow to judge.
A friend once called me a "cheerful goth." I'm often weighed down by the failures of modernity, that ocean of despair we've unleashed on otherness, that cage in which we perch our neurotic personalities (as if "personalities" really exist). My humor is dark and dry, but also very frequent: I have infinite faith in our ability to overcome the world. We, after all, made it, and we can unmake, mend and patch. Not cynical, but sarcastic. Never bitter, always aglow. I take you seriously, because I believe in you. Smiles and hugs come easy.
Q: What's worse than taking a bite out of an apple and finding a worm in it?
A: The Holocaust.
Life is a dark corridor lined with candles. Sometimes it's all lit up! I'm getting more and more proficient at balancing the despicable necessities of capitalism with the creative swirl of the heartmind. For me, the perfect rhythm of life is made of six-month stretches, each devoted to different wonders: conducting ethnographic research, designing free software, acquiring languages, producing music, and writing very, very short stories. The post-punk new wave is always around me. It plays in my head when I'm listening to, yawn, boring people.
"Music won’t save you from anything but silence."
I don't wear watches, despise cellphone culture, and travel light. Why willingly clip my wings? Why would anyone? I have no interest in politics and other team sports, but enjoy vital action: daily yoga, far runs, high spirits and quick fingers. I mostly eat vegetables. Don't own a TV, but have a few musical instruments, book shelves, and there are trees outside my window.
There once was a boy who made up animals for a living.
I'm especially soft-spoken and gentle for a man, but my gaze has been known to intimidate. I'm wild, but never feral: I believe in civilization and progress, and that diligence and dedication help gardens grow. Do we make decisions based on passion? Or is it our mind that quietly points the way for our natures?
I appreciate the rational and the sensual as one and the same.