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Logbook
A weblog or journal. updated weekly by owen. New entry
Smiley Faces
by owen on 7 days ago
I am often asked how I find time to update this website, what stars direct my faith. Its not really hard. A focused mind can find anything. There is so much bueaty in the world. All that it requires is a little time to write it down, separate the clutter. At the base of it all, every song is a love song. Its all a matter of perspective, how you look at it or listen to it.
As I'm eating my calalloo rice out of a Styrofoam cup takes a very long time to decompose in the environment and has been documented to cause starvation in birds and other marine wildlife. If I had the time, a whole lot a money or if luck was a lady; I would rent a whole floor of the pan caribbean building - don't ask me why. When you live by the day, pay by the hour, and sleep on the weekends, you tend to lay in the bed that you made, die by what you live by. Passion is a curse.
I spent all of last week thinking up new application concepts and watching wild ants eat babies on Discovery - not really - they were eating chickens. Babies taste like chicken? I ask cause I'm not sure. I learn fast, so you don't really have to go into the details. Photographic memory tends to be a curse when you remember odd little details about everything and yet absolute nothing about others. It does wear me down at times, like a caged animal.
owen commented: you know you gonna hurt you back. carrying all dem bags like that... ... read 6 more
We and dem
by owen on Sun, 20th Apr at 10:26 pm
I've been watching african movies on dvd since my cable company's feed was hyjacked by the latest monopoly - cream and bastards. I'm hooked on them like a baby on a well endowed milk machine - a monkey on a swing. There is no hesitation in these films for men to head butt women, jealous sisters marrying there dead sister's husbands, women fighting over men in supermarkets - its not the typical regurgitant I am accustomed to seeing on american cable or on profile for the last twenty one years. Cinderella gets her fair share of bad treatment.
African films live on a whole different set of rules; women typically stay at home, have babies and then get murdered or betrayed in some unusually conniving way. Only to return as ghosts to set things right. There are also a lot less curse word and they place a lot of emphasis on morals and ethics. Cursing is replaced with long sensitions of crying, well bawling would be a better word to describe the river of H2O that percipitates when anyone dies or gets slapped - did I mention how they like to slap alot? One girl got headbutted once, shot, burned with acided, given a letal injection and slapped at least once by every character in the movie, all because she was in love with the dude that president's daughter wanted. It was very painful to watch - I loved it - pure drama.
The films I've been watching seem to be from Ghana. Which may explain why the director keeps using the same actors over and over again - not that I'm complaining cause there apparently is no shortage of leading ladies with healthy backend support, thickness, camera crews, etc. Hair extentions are abundant but not quite as annoying as the fact that EVERY MOVIE IS A TWO PART SERIES. It is as if they can never finish slapping anybody in a hour and a half. Nothing is worst than watching part 1 and having the possiblity of NEVER SEEING THE CONCLUSION! I am enjoying still, if not only to see who will get murdered or slapped next, how and when the father will catch the son sleeping with his mistress who happens to be his wife's sister. The plot is never the same, which is good.
Tami commented: You seemed to have pretty much summed it up here. I watched 2 and they got clawing. It's too graphic for me. ... read 8 more
Smooth Operater
by owen on 3 hour ago
I haven't been the same since I went to that beach, far, far away. The hot sand beneat my feet, wind in my hair. It started to get to me, prudence was never my clean suit, I had to get out. Cream and bastards. I am at the point where people keep asking what makes me special, what stars direct my faith, the circle on which I run about. Wanting me to sell myself like a lady of the night. Quixotic about this thing called reality. Malcontent, a ghost in a shell. Truth is, I really never saw myself as special in anyway, I enjoy the madness, we are all the same, just doing enough to get by. I see myself as a product of my environment, the fifth car in a train wreak. Hey Jude. Each person I know bringing me closer an closer to perfection. Each being a part of my puzzle, having a specific purpose. I am never the same unless you are there.
I love my mother. She brings forth the supplication. I went to the dentist, only because it will give me pain, something to write about. Last time I was there 6 years ago, he left my teeth in a state of unrest. I'll be fine as long as somebody takes me home - everynow and then. The price doubled to 4000 JMD and the pain somewhat reduced to random miscalculations of her air powered tool of pain. Now the student had become the teacher. The feeling like I had a stroke as I lost control of my jaw muscles, a combination of water and saliva ran down my cheeks, unto my neck as she pressed my head against her breast.
Its hard for me to define myself. I'm somewhere between unsure and a hundred. Its like asking a tomato why its red or why the sun shines and then explodes. There is only some many words we can say; hello, goodbye. You asking me will my love grow? I don't know, I don't know. I'm a revolving door.
Stunner commented: "wind in my hair", when since you have long hair? lol! 
I had a female dentist once with woderfully sized breasts, I totally enjoyed going to the dentist that time just to feel her breasts on my head and she was quite pretty too! But she left and I don't know where she went...[sigh] 
... read 2 more
Malibu
by owen on Mon, 24th Mar at 6:24 pm
I started walking. By the time I realised, it was too late. I had nothing to do and had ended up on a beach in Negril surrounded by white people reading Harry Porter - foreign people are much more fun in their home country. Red Stripe still 100 dollars. I could not fight the feeling anymore. I had come down with a case of "infinite beach" syndrome.
It happens, like most things in life when you are left unamused at a unenclosed beach. I wonder off like a 5 year child at a supermarket. Kartel clusterfuck. Except with the lack of structure my mind erupts with a wave of endless possibilities. I go into a state of euphoria, there was nothing left in the whole wide world - just me, the beach and people baking in the sun. All the best things in life are free. The beach had to be concurred, wrinkle free.
An hour, 3 topless women, 1 nude man, 10 hotels and 4 miles later I ended up at a dock, with sea gulls and a big white boat called "Wild Thing". My calves hurting, the snickers were melting in my pocket. The return trip always shorter because you've seen it all before, never save anything for the swim back. I was done, the beach ended and I was still alive.
mad bull commented: Negril, huh? Did you have fun when the herb wore off? After the Euphoria was gone? ... read 7 more
Grow Young
by owen on Fri, 22nd Feb at 5:41 pm
As of late I have been eating food - in the food court using late meal vouchers, getting there around the same time, late at the night. Facading my facades. The interesting thing about food courts is that it is always filled with people of some kind. People that you will see only if you go there at that time, that second, its like monkeys in the wild or tulips in the spring. And they are not there for the food. It is a place that they were meant to be, if destiny is kind. Death and taxes. Now if someone tells you that the Chinese food at Little Tokyo is good, make sure you ask them if its really Chinese - not some foreign country which happens to have "Chinese like" people that cook. I began to worry when I asked for chicken and she said "which chicken?". Chewy. Too many choices.
In the food court there will be cults of people. You have the mid-week daters who have nothing better to do than the same things they do every week, except this time with other people. The people who cannot cook and prefer to eat among strangers - every once in a while. The student group who are still polite and have the dreamer's disease. The laptop users who are just there for the free internet. The old couples discussing the blue color that results when you put the thing in the toilet water - watch the stars fall silent. The janitorial staff who have their own little circle of people who they talk to - everybody hurts.
Its a place where you go, stay for a while and then leave. Like a temporary hotel without the water sports and little chocolates. The others, the kids on a night out, people on permanent holiday and the local foreigners who don't feel safe anywhere else. The people seeing each other on "the side". The models, sexy ladies, the punks, the idlers looking to pick up other people, the business meeting, the drug deal. Cute babies, people waiting for people, people finding people. Its like a playground for the mind, you don't want to go there too often, or stay too late, just long enough to get what you give.
Gordon Swaby commented: Your logbook enteries are beyond me, you should write a book. ... read 15 more
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