I hate being dulled by routine. I am 30 and I feel that way. Call me crazy, because managers, corporate gladiators, will always remind you about how organization is king.
In Uruguay, as in New Zealand, the number of cows dwarf the number of people. Why does this matter? It is sort of like the eternal battle between chaos and order. One will have to surrender eventually- just like man will have to eat cow, and cow will have to provide for man and his selfish whims. It's an inevitable reality.
The picture in this entry has an industrial tone- with a twist. The people here, as in the dynamic of man to cow, and cow to man, have given in to the inevitable. Hunger pangs, lamb chops- where you are matters not. A long, stressful, day at the office, pesto pasta- where you at matters not. You MUST eat, and eat now. It's just the way it is. In this case, these people, mouths watering, stomachs rumbling, eyes burning from the sight of such amazing culinary fare, have given in by the roadside, at a night market, at Mercato Centrale in Bonifacio Global City in Taguig, Philippines. Weary corporate warriors, eyes heavy, pockets light and coinless, but packing a punch in bills and plastic, run off, giggly girlfriends in tow, slow talking, fashion sense-less geek close behind, come in droves to eat their blues away. And why not? Whether you're in Manila, in
Kuala Lumpur, in Singapore, in Chicago- the sound of sizzling meat in a pan is the same anywhere you go. Your sense are titilated all the way home. When the smell of newly baked muffins, freshly toasted bread, newly basted spareribs hits you, you forget everything little doggone organized thing your boss had ever told you and go for the jugular. You mess everything up. You eschew manners, form, structure. You vomit in the organization's "happy bag". Akin to when you actually do relieve yourself, silence befalls you, and you feel amazing within moments.
Just like Kate Upton on the catwalk, man, this chaos thing, it has a life of its own. It's sexy. It's a thing of beauty. It's a warm, fuzzy feeling, this maelstrom of spilled paint on white canvass.
It makes no damn sense, but, you like it.
Food eaten on the street? Oh the horror.
Wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt to work? Demerit, demerit, demerit.
Cows over people? No that's just absurd.
Lots of things are twisted in this life.
Sometimes, as you fight so hard to curb its power, you realize, in one gallop, that its okay to give it.
And give in you do.
My oh my, does that taste spectacular.
MC
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