January 2012
1 post
“There is a guitar in my head that I strum all day. Because I am not trained,...”
– a thought this afternoon
November 2011
1 post
“I will drink red wine so that I may outlive my haters and dance on their graves.”
October 2011
1 post
What is my life?
Besides the longest thing I’ll do, that question is partly why I’ve begun writing this today. I’ll admit I thought of the better part of this while I was in the shower, which is where I think most ideas originate.
I’m writing this for me, and just in case I ever want to write a memoir someday—you know, if I ever amount to anything. Either way, I don’t want to forget important...
September 2009
2 posts
“I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around...”
August 2009
1 post
You. You. You. You.
Look at you. You are something. You are so full of life you might explode. You could power a freight train with your presence. You are mighty. You are full of possibility.
You must feel this strength. It radiates. Permeates. Penetrates. It is a force unseen but certainly not undetected. It is raw and awe-inspiring. Gross and unrestricted. Beautiful and...
July 2009
1 post
June 2009
2 posts
The wine makes her dream
She lay on her stomach in the dark, her breasts pushing into his mattress, staring sideways at him. He sat, legs crossed with his back straight against the wall. Looking at the dimples in the white popcorn ceiling, he taps on the side of his water glass steadily. Anything is better than total silence.
She looks away. He slouches and takes his eyes off the ceiling to regard her. This is not...
May 2009
12 posts
“We must do extraordinary things. We have to. It would be absurd not to.”
Today is my birthday
And today I realized just how alone I really am.
Wow that was depressing, I’m sorry. It was just a sub-par day.
I do have a story to tell though. It might be worth writing. I’m just afraid that if I write it, I’ll begin to obsess over it. And that could be a problem.
We shall see.
Take me to the nearest famous city middle where...
I know that it’s Sunday because of how quiet it is outside. It’s a very still kind of silence.
I went looking for a book today. Bookstores are a completely different kind of quiet. They are more of a thoughtful, intelligent quiet.
I wonder if that guy looking at the biographies knew I could hear him whispering to himself.
“Life, it seems, is not meaningless but, rather, so full of meaning that its...”
– Steve Tesich (Karoo)
Today I suddenly remembered a dream I had a long...
Somewhere between the beginning and end of my last blink it all came back to me. The city in my head with the sidewalks of white ash and the brick apartments where he was staying. I ran away here to see someone I once cared about, but too much time had passed by. He wasn’t the same, and I remembered how easily people disappear if you let them.
“I will never share most of the things I have created for fear that I have...”
I am clumsy.
Most of the time I know exactly where I’m putting my feet. I can walk across a space with purpose. That is, everywhere except in my room, where I seem to be the clumsiest person alive. I trip over everything, stumble sideways and plop onto chairs and beds. Then, I’ll sit in one place for awhile, staring at something—words on a page, pictures on a screen, or at the numerous...
And they went on to say that the pearly gates had...
I get stuck in moments. Small ones. Tiny instances that somehow I manage to remember as clearly as if they are happening again. But they aren’t. They never are, and could never physically recreate them if I wanted to.
Why I cling to these tidbits I have no idea, but I have a small set of them, usually recent ones that I like to replay when I close my eyes before I go to sleep. ...
How come no one told me I look like a wet dog.
At least I don’t smell like one.
I smell like 409. Thank you Trailerpark, for that one.
It still doesn’t feel like it’s over.
“We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things, we have given someone...”
– Dave Eggers