After the End

Despite having a permanent account on LJ, I must say I'm finally getting to the point where I'm about ready to leave it. I've had my LJ since 2002 (holy crap!), and I remember when it was an awesome place to blog, and to be. No longer.

I need a place to blog, and I need a place that is reliable. LJ no longer seems to fit all of my needs. I'm going to be stubborn for a bit longer and go there first, but DreamWidth is now also on my shortcut list. Because gorramit, when I need to blog, I need to BLOG!

If you're on DW and we're not buddies yet, lemme know.

"The sky is as blue as an orange."

This bit of surrealist wisdom came to me from a professor who apparently got a thrill out of confusing his writing students. I can't remember now from whom he lifted the phrase, but as he was a big fan of Saussure and the school of Andre Breton, I'm sure it was somewhere in there.

Now, living here in the Orangeland as I do, that phrase seems a whole bunch more meaningful.

It's been so many years since everything went this color that it's hard for me to remember what blue looks like. I remember liking it, though. Thus, I miss it. Blue is the color of our food not tasting like dirt. It's the color of clothing that doesn't constantly chafe and rash and scar. It's the color of a fresh tank of gas in the car at the beginning of a long road trip to...somewhere. Anywhere. Anywhere that isn't these scattered shacks in the dirt, the ones we keep having to put up after the wind knocks them down. Blue is the color of lack of wind.

Orange is the color of haggard faces unlucky enough to be alive after the end. It's also the color of the sky, for the most part. Pale sheen of orange film over everything, blowing over our bald heads, into our pumpkin teeth.

I can't imagine that my professor survived to see any of this. If he did, if he lives in the Orangeland, and if I ever see him again, remind me to kick him.