ENFP

Lester Bangs: Aw, man. You made friends with them. See, friendship is the booze they feed you. They want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong.

William Miller: Well, it was fun.

Lester Bangs: They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not cool.

William Miller: I know. Even when I thought I was, I knew I wasn't.

Lester Bangs: That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.

William Miller: I can really see that now.

Lester Bangs: Yeah, great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love... and let's face it, you got a big head start.

William Miller: I'm glad you were home.

Lester Bangs: I'm always home. I'm uncool.

William Miller: Me too!

Lester Bangs: The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool.

William Miller: I feel better.

Lester Bangs: My advice to you. I know you think those guys are your friends. You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful.

Don't do, be!

From Chaos, milieus and rythms are born. This is the concern of very ancient cosmogonies. Chaos is not without its own directional components, which are its own ecstasies. We have seen elsewhere how all kinds of milieus, each defines by a component, slide in relation to one another, over one another. Every milieu is vibratory, in other words, a block of space-time constituted by the periodic repetition of the component. Thus the living has an exterior milieu of materials, an interior milieu of composing elements and composed substances, an intermediary milieu of membranes and limits, and an annexed milieu of energy sources and actions - perceptions.

Every milieu is coded, a code being defined by periodic repitition; but each code is in a perpetual state of transcoding or transduction. Transcoding or transduction is the manner in which one milieu serves as the basis for another, or conversely is established atop another milieu, dissipates in it, or is constituted in it. The notion of the milieu is not unitary: not only does the living thing continually pass from one milieu to another, but the milieus pass into one another. They are essentially communicating. The milieus are open to chaos, which threatens them with exhaustion or intrusion. Rythm is the milieus' answer to chaos.

Making others feel comfortable*. Spending hours with the little things in life for no apparent reason (well, sometimes my neice has me lift rocks up for her to see whats underneath.) Daydreaming. Daydreaming late at night when I can't sleep.

Have been a massage therapist for 2 years now, on and off. Has always been a skill I've practiced for friends and family but I would sometimes be torturing myself just to bring other people relief. Which then caused a kind of resentment for the cleint, which, in this business, can really get in the way. Intention is everything.

I had to find a balance in my life in order to really help people the way I knew I could... But I feel pretty damn happy about the outcome. I'm able to connect better than I ever have.

Making decisions on a wim, and knowing everything will work out fine.

Helping the ones that aren't asking for it. They are usually the ones who would do the same.

Putting things in perspective, putting perspective into perspective, and then putting perspective into things. For some reason the simplest things seem to work for people.

Changing, changing, changing. I hate getting stuck in a rut, and I hate being pinned down as some archetype. I want to do and be them all in this life.

First impressions have everything to do about context. If I was rolling around in a pile of mud, you'd think differently of me than if I was sitting in this chair typing.

I'd hope eyes though. The people that I want to notice me, it always shows in the eyes, whether I'm rolling in mud or not.

:A: My knowledge is my secret!

:B: Ugh... Really?

:C: Listen to it all

:D: Homegrown, homemade, meditated with, medicated with, and hand picked. I wish. Til' then, my mood, the time of day, that look in your eye, what do I eat tonight? Does it matter?

The bare necessities of life will come to you

They'll come to you!

So just try and relax, yeah cool it

Fall apart in my backyard

'Cause let me tell you something little britches

If you act like that bee acts, uh uh

You're working too hard

And don't spend your time lookin' around

For something you want that can't be found

When you find out you can live without it

And go along not thinkin' about it

I'll tell you something true

The bare necessities of life will come to you

Life in general.

The fact that this earth is 5,972,000,000,000,000,000,000 metric tons, and there are supermassive blackholes out there that eat 600 of those size planets an hour.

Self-reliance to it's fullest.. I don't want to be sucking on the teat of society and civilization forever.

Emotion, and the chemical reactions involved.

December 21st, 2012.

Why I feel like I don't want to belong to any club that will have me, and what that means for me and the rest of my life.

How I can make myself better.

What the hell is "better"?

Often I'll think myself into a circle, and then start thinking about that thought circle.

Consciousness, and if human conciousness has any real effect on things other than this earth.

Experiences that have felt realer than real.

Moments in my life that have felt so right but so fake at the same time.

Voice.

Synchronicity, and our species in general. Why we do what we do, and how we can change. We've changed so much in the last 20 years it's mind-numbing, but we keep doing this 1 step backward 2 steps forward thing. I say we all collectively start sprinting. If we try to 'keep up' with information, the masses will remain overwhelmed. And you never know if that 1 step back is going to send us off a cliff one of these days. If that makes sense in a epically broad metaphor kinda way.

Practicing going into trance-mode with my didgeridoo.

Throat singing

Running around with my dogs. (Literal, not metaphorical dogs. Puppy = FUN!!)

Taking scenic routes from and to my house.

Eating something edible.

Staring at a wall.

Staring at the stars.

I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine, and he shall be my Squishy.

The focus it takes to unfocus.

Why I am here, and why you are here.

None of these things have Friday in common with eachother, I pinky swear.

.....Alright.... You want to know the truth about this scar on my arm? The real truth?

Well I was at school, about 6 or 7 years old.. And I told my teacher I had to go to the bathroom.

As I'm walking there I'm thinking to myself 'this day sucks balls.' (Well.... put a 6 year old filter on that thought and that's what I was thinking.) So of course I complied to myself, went into the bathroom, and purposefully peed my pants.

AWWW YEAH, GOIN HOME BITCHES!! Had to act embarrassed and everything. Anyway long story short I accidently got my foot stuck in the spokes of a bicycle while going home and got a compound fracture, bone stickin out and everything. And that's how I learned not to pee my pants. (And I'm proud to say I still havn't! High fives all around.)

I'm not a private person, ask me anything :]

You've got social poise........

You don't mind putting on the spelunking gear with me to explore conversation. Engage me! Enrage me! Prove me wrong and slap me in the face. Give me something of substance I can think about and play with.

I can't be the only one here with his ear still on the safe. *click click click click CLICK click click click* Gunna get there one day.

The polemically audacious, varied meanings, sans-ostentatious.

The grace of an old worn soul, your face still young, and profoundly efficacious.

You can feel this tip-toe language, a plastic bag and at the speed of light.

And while you fumble through this neverending flight between the bright and twilight:

Fly your kite but focus your string, and I'll guide your eyes to the rest of that sad torn wing.

Adapting your own thing to to this new information tossed in via word sling.

Watching kings & queens die one by one, while everyone drinks stolen rum - isn't this fun? :)

Jacks and aces, with their sleazy drunken faces, show us why we continue to run.

So take that ladder by the rung and climb above all that dung, ignore the crumbs.

Taught well by the fights you've fought, feed your bums, guard your slums, protect your plums.

Rummaging through alleys of conciousness, searching, hoping for some pristine niche perfectly fit.

For a mind as free and clear as yours or mine, this journeys space has no easy place to fly or sit.

But one day these shoes will come off. This mask in the trash and a flask in the desk.

This life won't last forever, but I'll love it anyway: the day to day of a self-challenged grotesque.

Dazed, blazed, and blessed with no rest, constant seeking the unsought and unbrought until my days of wrinkles and canes.

No more fame. Energy manifested dumped from whence it came, brought back tame with no jitters or pain.

The warmth and glow begins a calming gentle row that flows through the only thing you're left with to know.

The vibrating light show.

<3

-Taylor

* - Sometimes uncomfortable. Which are you?