Saturday, October 1, 2011

Where The Sidewalk Doesn't End


by Matt Rhodes on Thursday, October 29, 2009 at 9:16pm

Take a walk and look at how scarred the sidewalk is. Whether it's gum stains or blood stains, puke puddles or mud puddles, the urban environment is a textured old skin.

The old patch of concrete outside my door has a history of abuse. Where did this crack begin? Who poured the mortar and who passed out on it last night?

The false permanence of the sidewalk is marked by the only constant that it tries so hard to erase: Nature. Signs of Her are everywhere and she often pokes through in odd places.

The pathways created by humans are linear and worn. What more can we say of the modern infrastructure? Humans have become their sidewalks and alleyways; their worn-out buildings and leaking pipes...

In certain areas, a block of the sidewalk is repaved, but soon it blends in with the surrounding pavement. People live their lives with others or alone...all in a certain fashion, pattern or style, creating a ruckus around them-then they change, and eventually it all blends into the obscurity of/as humanity's mortar.

The sidewalk is often a place of loiter, conversation and intercourse. The sidewalk is filthy place. It is a place transition...

This path of concrete is also a place of delivery, where people arrive or depart from destinations, say hello or say goodbye. It is were some people sleep and wake-up in the morning. Most importantly, it is the place where all things intersect and points of human interaction converge.

Our lives are a host full of coul-de-sacs, bridges and tunnels, intersections and highways. Humans are transient...our lives come to an end someday, but these are things that appear as we get older and we see that the sidewalk doesn't end...

Slave Manifesto


I drive a hybrid but I still drive a car. I live life but I'm not alive unless I spend it away. I'm a carpenter but I'm not Jesus Christ. I'm a dreamer but I'm a nightmare to those around me. I recycle but it still ends up as trash somewhere else. I'm a talker when words won't suffice. I'm an atheist but I have a soul. I live in a house but I'm never home. I seek spiritual wealth and end up monetarily poor. I believe in friendship and honor integrity but I still have reservations. I believe in love but have never loved anyone completely for who they are or were. I breathe in oxygen and when I exhale, I pollute carbon dioxide. I can fix other people's problems but the one thing I can’t seem to fix is my own thoughts at the end of a workday. I eat healthy foods and shit out opinions. I feel but I'm not emotional. I tend to be loud but not overtly misleading. I feel stronger but I'm not better. I think of myself as a conscientious consumer but my choice of products is rather careless. I like to have a few drinks after work (nearly everyday of the week) but I wouldn't call myself an alcoholic. I was angry at a girl who used me but I enjoyed letting myself be used. I care enough but not enough to really truly care.

I am a slave and this is my manifesto.