My Knife — blog 9 — 1.10.22

I am growing a mustache and I carry a knife. My shirts are youth XL and my size 32 pants are too big. I am going to have to go down a size again. Am I going crazy? Not likely because I wisely bought very cheap size 32 jeans. I can probably buy expensive, really nice size 30s, but that seems crazy to me. I am still the same lunatic as before, just in a different shell.

I don't recognize this shell, but it will grow on me. I like looking down at the tiny knife that I carry. It fits in the lighter pocket of my jeans or at least I think that’s what that pocket is for. I’ve never carried a lighter, but I think that would be cool to do. It would also be crazy because I have no use for a lighter, so I’m not going to carry a lighter. If I carried a lighter because it looked cool — and it does — my completely rational mind would try to find an excuse for a lighter and that would be smoking cigarettes and that’s crazy. I’m not crazy. I have a use for a knife. Although I wish it was for self defense or just plain aggressive behavior, it’s much more mundane. We get a lot of boxes from Amazon, and I am pretty anal about breaking down the carboard boxes immediately so they can better fit into the recycling bin. The irony is that where we live now, there is no recycling bin, but I can’t break the habit. At least the cardboard takes up less space in the trash this way, and I have an excuse to carry a knife. Men always carried pocket knives growing up. I want to be a man in my youth XL Golden State Warriors shirt.

Here’s where it all falls apart. Where I am insane or too sane. My polemic blog is not an outlet, it is a representation of my absolute world view. 

China stopped taking our cardboard boxes years ago. American waste management companies stopped trying to manage cardboard soon after. I was well aware, that putting cardboard into the green trash can didn’t mean anything, but the city wouldn’t give me two regular trash cans, so I filled the green one with broken-down Amazon boxes to keep the brown one with regular trash from filling up. This is perfectly reasonable, to think about trash can space and know that the world is filling up with boxes and not really care. But do I think about it too much? Do I spend too much time breaking down boxes? Although having a knife in my pocket increases box compression efficiency, is this rational act so rational that it’s crazy? The answer is, well there isn't an answer to that question, but the reality is that I live on the extremes. This blog is a representation of that. It is a dangerous way to live, that is to think this way, but carrying a knife is probably inviting danger too. But I am getting the most out of life.