I am open to the accusation that I see compost as an end it itself. But we do grow some real red damn tomatoes such as you can't get in the stores. And potatoes, beans, lettuce, collards, onions, squash, cauliflower, eggplant, carrots, peppers. Dirt in you own backyard, producing things you eat. Makes you wonder.
The same chemicals were used in the cooking as were used on the composition of her own being: only those which caused the most violent reaction, contradiction, and teasing, the refusal to answer questions but the love of putting them, and all the strong spices of human relationship which bore a relation to black pepper, paprika, soybean sauce, ketchup and red peppers.
I can see it, hear it, feel it, taste it - but I can never be on the inside of it with you. I cannot even be sure whether I really know what it is like. Is it 'like' my own? Or incomparable? Just as I can never know if what you see at any given moment is exactly the same as what I see. We look at a colour. We both call it red. But it is only because we have been taught to call it by that name. There is no guarantee - not ever - that we see it in the same way, that your red is my red.
I was shown into a room. A red room. Red wallpaper, red curtains, red carpet. They said it was a sitting-room, but I don't know why they'd decided to confine its purpose just to sitting. Obviously, sitting was one of the things you could do in a room this size; but you could also stage operas, hold cycling races, and have an absolutely cracking game of frisbee, all at the same time, without having to move any of the furniture. It could rain in a room this big.
She spent an afternoon staring at their front door. Waiting for someone? Yankel asked. What color is this? He stood very close to the door, letting the end of his nose touch the peephole. He licked the wood and joked, It certainly tastes like red. Yes, it is red, isn't it? Seems so. She buried her head in her hands. But couldn't it be just a bit more red?
CARLITO MADE A TRIP TO A HORRIBLE PLANET WHEN HE CAME BACK WELL HE LET EM HAVE IT A BIG RHYME STICKING LIKE A PIECE OF BONE FROM A CHICKEN THE KIND YOU SUCK WITH YOUR MITTENS ON CAUSE ITS COLD AND THAT S ALL HE KNOWS HOW TO DO IS ROCK AND MAKE HEADS ROLL HE DO IT TO YOU HE DO IT TO ME HE DO IT TO THE WORLD LIKE A COLOR TV BAD MAN COMING BACK DOWN FROM THE DAYS OF OLD BAD MAN SWINGING THE MICROPHONE KISS THE EARLY MORNING THE EARLY LIGHT AND WATCH YOUR BETTER DAY BECOME THE NIGHT COMING AFTER YOU LIKE A BUNCH OF PEPPERS SPLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE LIKE DIRTY RECORDS SO LOVE THE LEPPERS EAT THE PEPPERS RAW SUCK THE SEEDS IN LET YOUR BODY FALL LOOK FOR THE MAKER BEFORE THE MAKER SEES YOU GROWN LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THEM DIRTY THINGS A PIECE OF COAL IS A DIAMOND RING YOUR SOUL IS TORN BUT YOUR BIRD CAN SING NOT EVERY PRETTY HERO NEEDS A HO CHI MIN A HUNDRED YEARS AGO STEALING ALL THE HALOS SO YOUR SOUL CAN KNOW YOU MADE THIS ROCK AND ROLL THRILL ME LIKE YOU USED TO
When what we see catches us off guard, and when we write it as realistically and openly as possible, it offers hope. You look around and say, Wow, there's that same mockingbird; there's that woman in the red hat again. The woman in the red hat is about hope because she's in it up to her neck, too, yet every day she puts on that crazy red hat and walks to town.
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