ignis_glaciesque's New Writeups

The people on the bus (personal)

2009-12-09T05:33:59Z

If you come from a place in life where all your needs are met and all your major problems are existential in nature, then riding public transportation can be a little depressing.

I live in Tampa, right on the #2 route, the busiest in the county. It's a very convenient route, shooting north-south from downtown to the University area, almost European service, right down to the basers and blue-collar unemployed. Most of the time, it's pretty uneventful. But there are times when it's like walking into a Tom Waits song. You see, the people on the bus are of a very worn-down sort. The bus is for people who can't afford to take any other means of getting from Point A to Point B, and the circumstances of socio-economic oppression take their toll over the years. It shows on their faces. People age prematurely, flowers stunted by poor soil, careless…

Honda Ruckus (thing)

2009-12-02T21:56:06Z

This ain't your hipster friends' Vespa.

The Honda Ruckus (and its brother, the Honda Zoomer) was first envisioned as an off-road vehicle. It has a sturdy frame, wide and knobby tires and an engine underneath the frame. That's about all there is to it. It's about as bare-bones as you can get and still be street-legal. It's a bunch of exposed pipes and parts with wheels. It has no body paneling, no enclosed cargo compartment, and not even a fuel gauge. If the Vespa is the Art Deco of the scooter world, then the Ruckus would be Dada.

There are many scooters that go faster or accelerate better, given the Ruckus' four-stroke engine (to meet emissions standards). I was thrilled when I managed to make a skin-blistering 41mph on a downhill stretch in my 2003 model; newer models have considerably better top-end, thanks to a higher redline and a few design changes. Despite its somewhat underpowered engine, it is one of the most reliable and efficient two-wheeled vehicles on the…

misery loves company (poetry)

2009-11-29T21:21:29Z

Some of us circle aimlessly like moths,
Buzzing bewildered around a light:
We're bound so valiantly for the moon,
But smash ourselves senseless each and every night.

Some of us are like crows perched on a wire,
Watching the world pass by down below:
Birds of a feather, we flock together,
Because it sure beats being alone.

November 25, 2009 (personal)

2009-11-26T07:16:07Z

Tonight marks the night, to the day, when my fiancee and I broke it off for good. After figuring out that an endless parade of sad attempts at finding someone to replace her was a fool's quest, I decided to go it alone for as long as it took.

Since then, I learned something. I have learned to love, without falling in love, have stripped off my armor and stopped trying to be the shining knight, and instead, decided it was better to be who I really was, stop fighting and start building.

I built a few walls, but I built a lot more bridges in the past two years. Where these bridges take me, I don't know, but I'm glad I built them all the same. They lead to shining cities, people who are not fortresses and citadels, people I can learn from. I let one into my keep, and she trashed the place. Others will at least do me the courtesy of removing their shoes before coming in.

Sulphur Springs Water Tower (place)

2009-10-25T16:52:52Z

Tampa is a funny little city. Driving down Nebraska Avenue is like going back in time: you start with all the shops and convenience stores of the University, and gradually, the buildings start to take on that classic 'Florida ramshackle' look and the houses start to look a little more stately, boarded-up windows and all. 'Charming', you think, and wonder if now's a good time to buy in this depressed housing market (hint: yes it is). Then you reach the intersection of Nebraska and Bird, and you lay eyes on... a lighthouse?

You've just discovered one of our fair city's legends, a lighthouse for lost motorists and legendary pirates only: the Sulphur Springs Water Tower. Built in 1927 by one Grover Poole to provide fresh water to the hotels and shops of the historical heart of Tampa, it ceased to fulfill its acquatic function well before the demolition of the Sulphur Springs Hotel in 1976, and these days, it stands like a sentinel on the western…

September 30, 2009 (personal)

2009-09-30T20:25:40Z

Two days without a cigarette. I've had some time to crankily ponder why I'm quitting.

I'm quitting out of spite.

I think I'm the last man alive who actually buys his own goddamned smokes. Fuck this healthy lifestyle bullshit, fuck white teeth, fuck aerobic capacity, fuck the ability to go through my day without feeding a dependency, fuck fucking over the tobacco companies, fuck all that, because that all is just icing on the cake compared to being able to tell someone to fuck off, I don't have any cigarettes and never will again. Who needs nicotine when you got schadenfreude?

I'm quitting out of self-respect.

It's the cigarette bums who are compelling me to quit. I live in a neighborhood with people that drop by our house just to bum a cigarette. A couple of the more socially-inept among them ask for a cigarette before saying 'hello'. I've even had someone call me up once around midnight to ask me if I had any cigarettes.…