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Photo set - “The Changling”

Some of the many different “looks” of Jim Morrison. His appearance changed many times between the time The Doors signed their record deal in 1966 and his sudden death on July 3, 1971 at the age of 27.

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Linktober Sketches by Willowstration

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Sh*t Is An Old, Old Word

It can be traced back to Middle English, around the year 1000 CE, along with turd and arse. Making it one of the true Anglo-Saxon words left in English.

The word probably originated much earlier than it can be traced. Because, well, swear words tend not to get written down. They are spoken, slang words. Another piece of evidence that sh*t is older than 1000 CE is that similar words exist in other languages in the Germanic family including Dutch, Icelandic, and of course German. Which suggests that sh*t was born not in Middle English, but descended from a common ancestor in the original proto-Germanic language.

Sh*t was not always a taboo word. It initially meant, very specifically, diarrhea in cattle.

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I hate working. I fucking hate having a job. I want to have a career already, but I don’t. So for now I want a source of income I can enjoy. I’ve been a cashier, and the people I enjoyed but the job itself was wearing on my hands with all the dryness from paper bags and wet produce. Working at restaurants made me miserable though the money was good. It just wasn’t worth my sanity. Landscaping I enjoyed but didn’t thoroughly appreciate enough, and now I don’t have the time for it being a college student. I wanna work in a flower shop. Even if I’m just pruning, trimming, and organizing bouquets and work 12 hours a week, that’s what I wanna do. Sure, I’ll end up talking to the flowers, like if one is wilting and sad I’ll go over and be like “oh, you poor thing, here, let me help you” as if that makes a difference. But I wanna be happy for once. I’m in a new place with new people in college, finally on my own and free from all the stress and uncomfort that came before from having to assimilate into a culture I didn’t understand. Now, I know I have a blocked root chakra and I know how to fix it. Feeling more at home in myself with my yoga practice and mindfulness, my intentions are for self healing and love. I want to care for myself and others in the process, but I really do have to come first. I can’t fall apart anymore. So I wanna be a florist. What’s wrong with doing what makes me happy? What’s the matter with doing something in the interim? I’m going to be an environmental political philosopher. I’m going to work with plants and food for the rest of my life. No one else understands that but me and they don’t have to. You do you, always. Happiness and peace come from within and can’t be found anywhere else. I’m gonna be a damn florist.

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The True Addict

You realize that addicts are perpetually sad, right?

You don’t just get sober and end up happy.

Sure, you feel better, and you may be more satisfied with your life

But you. The true addict. You are always sad.

You will always be sad.

I, myself, am always sad.

Even in moments of bliss, there is the question in the back of my mind,

Why am I here? Why am I doing this?

Active addiction only perpetuates these disastrous thoughts

Otherwise, yes, they’re there.

That’s why everyone just tells you to get clean and things will be okay

Because they see your life get better when you’re sober from a realistic POV

But for you,

The TRUE addict,

You will never feel truly alive like the rest of them.

Find an expression for this sadness,

Writing, the arts, education, anything.

Put that obsessive brain to the task and distract yourself.

It’s the only hope you’ll ever have,

And you might just end up changing the world while you’re at it before you’re gone.

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Such a babe

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Today’s horoscope....

Get the acid.

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Rick and Morty  //  Pilot

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“My buddy, Robert Plant, waving at me from his limo in 1975 behind the ‘Riot’ House’”– Frank Melfi. Photo © Frank Melfi.

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