Everyone loves fast food.

July 30, 2009

I was sitting on the quad today when I noticed a squirrel perched upon a garbage can near-by. It’s no secret that squirrels are bold little creatures on the UofI campus, so I snuck up a ways with my camera. The little bugger was quite too preoccupied to notice me. Seems every American, even the little ones, loves fast food.

The lil' guy was just enjoying a quick afternoon snack... off the discarded remains of a hamburger wrap.

The lil' guy was just enjoying a quick afternoon snack... off the discarded remains of a hamburger wrap.

Listening to: cars pass by on the street below

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The Journey Home.

July 29, 2009

Several things to tell after a week of internet absense. But where to start? Certainly not the beginning – the idea’s absurd. So, of course: we’ll start with the beginning.

I was born just a few weeks ago in the little town of Rock Island. In this short time I have already made it on to college, and this last weekend – the opportunity to return home. I hopped in the car and lo-and-behold I was back at the ranch. My parents and I, in typical Traylor fashion, took to the streets. We had a loverly little walk along the river, the purpose: to discover a place of importance from my childhood. I know. You’re thinking it should be easy to remember. After all, a few months ago I was a mere twinkle in the stars. But, there was a quantum singularity in my young mind. It seemed, alas, that I would have to discover. Again. This time for an essay at school, not my childhood enjoyment. But perhaps now, too… enlightenment.

While this first bit of the journey I only captured images, later on were also words…

After the river (or before), I took a walk about the ravine in my back yard back home. I did not find my younger world. It had, indeed, been swallowed by a singularity: progress. The neighbors were cleaning my memories right out of the ground – sodding leaves, lost army men, and soldiers – of the crayola crayon imperium. Now the ground lay flat, the neighbors stooping to remove pebble and rock. Smoothing out the edges. Built a rock wall – to contain their created pristine practicality, to wall out my imagination. The woods that once stood wild were combed of mane and tamed. I, like Muir, saw my temple disdained. My neighbors, standing by, looked on with smiling eyes. What had I lost? What had they gained? I sighed and returned… imagining what it would have been to from their eyes, or yet still – to have seen the Mississippi dry.

After the journey, my heart remained searching… so I watched a lot of Star Trek. Voyager, specifically. You know, ’cause thematically it was totally relevant. They’re lost in space, too. And the past few days have seen some writing – hopefully a new piece up in the next few days. In any case, home was nice. Simply nice. Cheers.

Listening to (oddly, again): Homecomings, Honey is Cool


Group Wander, round 2.

July 21, 2009

As you may well know, I’m prone to wander – day, night, alone, or in company… it’s an eventuality. Tonight happened to be in company, taking to the Urbana streets with friends Shanza and Megan. As it stands, this was but round 2 of our little group’s many wanders to be. Earlier this summer we hiked up Krannert and around Champaign, sharing laughs and befriending a host of cockroaches. This wander resulted in a similar, yet unique, result. While I have some various photos from both, I shall first share a few of the night’s more pragmatic excerpts jotted in my journal along the way:

11:14 pm – embarking into the night, air smells of corn, faintly of shit – but that fades. air feels cool, fresh after a weekend cooped inside – good to get out, good to wander.

” I’ve been planning hiding spots around campus… in case.”
-Megan

Listening to: birds chirping


Livin’ on bad ramen and good coffee.

July 20, 2009

And don’t forget the beer & frozen peas. Yep, life’s kinda like that… except that my mother, well, she is of normal intelligence. Now my father, he… is also of normal intelligence. Really, other than that it’s pretty much a one-for-one parallel. Or maybe it just seems that way because I’ve been sick all weekend and have been watching Mr. Show by the truckload. That, and trying to make up all of the learning I missed in class last week. So it’s been a slow few days, but it’s these easy-going sick days I actually rather cherish. There’s an excuse to kick back and take it slow, a forced restfulness that could otherwise be construed as laziness. Really, livin’s all in the way you tell it, each telling a unique universe of objects and events. Some words to express this:

“Isn’t it strange how [Kronberg Castle in Denmark] changes as soon as one imagines that Hamlet lived here? As scientists we believe that a castle consists only of stones, and admire the way the architect put them together. The stone, the green roof with its patina, the wood carvings in the church, constitute the whole castle. None of this should be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived here, and yet it is changed completely. Suddenly the walls and ramparts speak a different language. The courtyard becomes an entire world, a dark corner reminds us of the darkness of the human soul, we hear Hamlet’s “To be or not to be.” Yet all we really know is that his name appears in a thirteenth-century chrinicle. No one can prove he really lived here. But everyone knows the questions Shakespeare had him ask, the human depths he was made to reveal, and so he too had to be found in a place on earth, here in Kronberg. And once we know that, Kronberg becomes a quite different castle for us.”
-Niels Bohr, 1924.

“Isn’t it strange how [Kronberg Castle in Denmark] changes as soon as one imagines that Hamlet lived here? As scientists we believe that a castle consists only of stones, and admire the way the architect put them together. The stone, the green roof with its patina, the wood carvings in the church, constitute the whole castle. None of this should be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived here, and yet it is changed completely. Suddenly the walls and ramparts speak a different language. The courtyard becomes an entire world, a dark corner reminds us of the darkness of the human soul, we hear Hamlet’s “To be or not to be.” Yet all we really know is that his name appears in a thirteenth-century chrinicle. No one can prove he really lived here. But everyone knows the questions Shakespeare had him ask, the human depths he was made to reveal, and so he too had to be found in a place on earth, here in Kronberg. And once we know that, Kronberg becomes a quite different castle for us.”
-Niels Bohr, 1924.

So this post has been a bit stream of consciousness, but hey my mind’s coming off a cold and hopped up on caffeine. Time to attack the week, tell some stories. To all, keep on keepin’ on. It’s the only way to be.

Listening to: Sometimes in the Fall, Phoenix


A poem a day.

July 19, 2009

“Someone said that a poem a day keeps the psychiatrist away—but, this kind?”
-Clair Horner

In lieu of KGB themes for the past few weeks, I’ve been doing a bit of independent writing. Here is a link to my latest piece:
“The Advent of the Ants.”
As always, comments/criticism are appreciated.

On a final note, ¬†you can follow this link to hear my new ringtone, a ringtone by David Lynch (wow, now that’s something I never thought I’d say). As long as you can appreciate the absurdity, you’ll get a good laugh.

Listening to: Streets of Istanbul, dZihan & Kamien


My hobby: (3)

July 18, 2009

Pulling professors aside after class to ask them in the strictest of confidences about horcruxes.

(Did I mention that I went to the midnight Harry Potter? Spoiler alert: SKD, SKD!!!)

Listening to: West Coast, Coconut Records


What a week (not… zing!)

July 18, 2009

Well, it’s been a week. There’s no debating that. But where to begin… hm – probably with the beginning. Precious Roy met his end – gears caught in the back wheel and tore him to pieces. And just when I was getting used to the frequent malfunctions. Sigh. Then there was the visit to Bloomington / seeing my friend Kyle. As much as I hate to admit it, we spent the majority of the time playing AoE2:TC rather than doing anything productive (if you want to talk strategy, I play Teutons… and can muster up a good hour’s worth of conversation on the subject). So is life. I did, however, get some cool shots leaving town. See below. And for the rest of the week… a lot of nothing. Except for the midnight showing of Harry Potter. But other than that, no, nothing.

Listening to: Home, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros