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So, everything went well this morning. I got up in plenty of time to keep my appointment with no undue haste. In fact I had plenty of time to go to the Shoney's restaurant in Fayetteville and partake of they breakfast buffet. It's a favorite place for me to eat breakfast because of the food. It's a good thing I can't afford to eat there much. I'm not particularly fond of the ambiance.
They have hash browns cooked about right, and the grits are firm and not soupy. The scrambled eggs seem to be fresh made because of the traffic. It's obvious that I'm not the only person attracted to the breakfast bar at Shoney's. The fact that lots of people like to have the options provided at the buffet is probably why nearly all the food seems freshly prepared.
Many people not raised to grits don't understand the soul of them, or rather, the soul projectable upon them. They're just a medium. If you cook them and then spread them out on a cookie dish and let them cool to congeal, then slice them up in three inch squares, dump them in an egg batter to coat them in goodness, then fry them up in country ham red-eye leavings, and serve them up to people you love... you'll have to do it all over again to stop them from begging.
I like to make enough grits to cover the cookie sheet at least 3/4 inch (1.9 cm) thick. That way they have soft ham flavored centers so tasty you can just eat that, and throw the rest away to the doGs. The dawgs will beg for more too, but it's too good for them. There is nothing worse than a spoiled, finicky dog, except it's owner.
Pet owners want you to treat them like they treat their pets. Granted, it's just about impossible to interpret their interactions in a way that can guide you to their inner peace (it's even harder if they're doing the same things to people that they do to their pets). I find the entire pet peccadillo a sickening waste of time and money.
As if nobody is looking. I once knew this incredible woman who was just my type. I created an aura for her that she couldn't resist. Thangs were looking good between us. I had to compete for her love with cats. Or, was it booze? No, that was another perfect woman for me, who had inexcusable flaws so ingrained that she hung herself to the highest tree as penance for destroying my love for her.
When I clicked on some of the Google Results links to read some examples of how 'undue haste' is used it made me realize my interest in this expression. It's a lot like the Ben Franklin quote about "Haste makes waste." This happens to me a lot because of my propensity to jump to conclusions. I'm a fairly impatient person.
It's not a positive attribute. Either to myself or to the world around me, but it's a weapon I employ to change how the status quo is coming down. Really intelligent people sometime find themselves stumped by my inexcusable, thoughtless (or so it seems) statements or conclusions that are both dumb and virtually impossible to untangle in an acceptable mean-time. Such incites a pause that is not a meaningful moment, but a null point.
A null point is not a somethingness I control, but a nothingness I allow to happen by abandoning some uncalled need for the idea of personal respect. Why do you think they call my illiterate hubbub, distraction? Abstract and distract are opposites. If speech is mind, then mind is subject to the vagaries of speech and vice-versa... No?
"...
where do you go
when there is nowhere to go,
and the place that you're at
is kind of blue,
and you look deep inside
for the child who has died,
and the kingdom
it once occupied
is gone too?
...."
fmp, '72
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