Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Naked Reaction Index: an article preview

An article I've been pitching around is "The Naked Reaction Index", which involves the initial reaction one has upon seeing another nude for the first time, not entirely unlike the unwrapping of a present. Now there are reactions beneath those which I'll outline here, but if you have standards, those of the "eww" "ech" and "eek!" assortment will never be encountered.
*First off is that of a normal physique, acceptable, just better than average. "Oh."
*When the garbs drop to the floor and natural beauty alongside light but symmetrical muscular definition alongside body shape is revealed, one may be motivated to emit an "Oh My..."
*The final level is that of direct effort and subsequent achievement, when natural beauty is augmented by physical training, dieting, and superficial primping like keeping a tight trim, that of "Oh My God!"
... What level are you?

Business Farmers

In a recent discussion with a friend it became apparent to me the nature of sales through the word usage I've been pursuing in regards to my salesman friend's pursuit of his leads. A first meeting is considered to be a seed, in which the idea, the concept, of his product is planted within the minds of the soil, the people. Meetings following this initial introduction are to be considered watering the plant, which shall grow as the knowledge base and need recognition take root. The final process in sales as in farming is that of the harvest, when the client is closed, the plant turned into a commodity, and the sale made. And so while farming is a steadily dying industry in the domestic sense, at least we can take comfort in the fact that its concepts live on through the harvesting of profits from the crop of humans stomping upon and above the soil which was once cultivated.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Make Kerouac Proud, Run and Live on the Road

Raindrops packing upon my skin as I stretch to completion, the recognition that a run is much like a life floods to the surface of my reality, a thought percolating throughout, words dripping later on as I begin to laugh for no reason, adrift in the nomad's high as I remove my shirt to appreciate the clearness of the sky contrasting the precipitation, finishing the final of four or so street miles. The campus of WPI was the playground for this particular late-night jaunt, wrought with uphill necessities and blessed by the opportunity at many more. I've learned two things through running: A-Taking the most difficult path comprehensible produces the greatest amount of satisfaction, results, and from a pain is pleasure perspective, is fucking tight; 2_When it feels as though another step is impossible it is time to throw caution to the weak and sprint all silly like, after which the previous pace is nothing, not of note, simple; 3, Listen, whatever, I lied get over it/ It's okay to get a bit lost here and there along the way, adventure is learning and knowledge is power children, so long as the pace is kept as time hasn't patience nor should we. MJW.
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Saturday, June 13, 2009

A Day in the Life

June the 13th. 12am: Arriving to my apartment having parlayed with my homie Ryan. I stretch. 12-12:35: I run three miles on the streets bathed in darkness while listening to my iPod shuffle, on shuffle, although coming upon "I'm looking through you" by the Beatles listen to it seven times while returning home. 12:35-12:45, showering, gripping and ripping. 12:55-1-45: Latino night at the boiler room, a RedBullandvodka, a song heard while at my barber shop that morning getting faded is played, the Spanish version of "Mrs. Officer" by Lil' Wayne essentially, but classic style. 1:50: I encounter a particularly striking African American girl, her name: Marcella. 1:55: Burning with Russ, I witness the outbreak of violence, the smack of the first strike landing upon teeth entirely audible. 2:15-11: Incandescent dreamy slumber. 11:30-1:30- A glorious work-out sesh at World Gym Worcester. 2-3: Submitting a Shady Transaction in Southern California to Anderbo, an online literary journal, and the Arch Literary Journal. 4-10: I assume the role of Jack to produce cash; he's a waiter. 10-x Pushing it to the limit. Rock and Roll. Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The Flow, Induced.

After midnight training is often essential. Eminem’s new cd Relapse is incredible. Track 12; “Stay Wide Awake”, his greatest lyrical delivery, ever: 5lbs in each hand I shadow-box. Track 8; “Same Song & Dance”, a haunting beat by Dre: Bokken (solid cherry-tree wood katana) training alongside nunchucks. Track 2; “3AM”, a unique flow and illustrative lyrics: Shinai (bamboo kendo sword) training, weightless shadowboxing, weighted, and without. Southpaw feels more comfortable but I train evenly nonetheless. Adequately flowing, a short jog is necessary. A cool off. A shower. A mental warm-up in the form of this blog, and ready to begin the continued crafting of the current piece of short fiction, The Recovery, through a bit of intense mental training, equally paramount and so tanta- to the physical. Rock and Roll.