14.2.08
on this being what we've waited for
i could be embittered, lonely, dissatisfied, or all of the above on this valentine's day. but, i've decided to take solace in this.
11.2.08
on exchanging my favor for something more like this
in the end, i'll take this:
because, this beats being indoors and hoping that a whole season will just pass us over, wearing hats and scarves, burning logs. i'd rather burn logs on the beach, tuck my feet into the sand and strum out my favorite Dylan song on a worn-out guitar.
eventually, i'll have to come back from california. but, for right now, it fits.
because, this beats being indoors and hoping that a whole season will just pass us over, wearing hats and scarves, burning logs. i'd rather burn logs on the beach, tuck my feet into the sand and strum out my favorite Dylan song on a worn-out guitar.
eventually, i'll have to come back from california. but, for right now, it fits.
7.2.08
on not wanting to grow up, in favor of being a Toys'R'Us Kid
If I let the sky--because it needs my permission--open up and let loose on this place, it would look like it does today. It would slog the whole town down so much that we couldn't move, trapped inside our homes and forced to cook leftovers and light a fire and have conversation with our friends as we peer over the margins of secondhand novels. We'd listen to vinyl instead of turning on the TV, like real aesthetics, unafraid of the click and hiss of spinning records, and tell stories over the warble of a jazz standard.
i'd take that igloo of a lifestyle, as long as i had enough scarves and sweaters, firewood to last through the days, instead of the harshness of life outside–textbooks, exams, business suits, morning commutes. But, maybe it could snow so much that the trainyard is a great white sea of windswept snow dunes, engines rolling gradually, bumps underneath an outstretched linen sheet.
we could bury what we have to do after we're done here. we could let it ice over beneath the weight of lake effect snow and imagine the whole thing will stay frozen forever to the soundtrack of trumpet and fuzz and the crackle of a fireplace, okay?
i'd take that igloo of a lifestyle, as long as i had enough scarves and sweaters, firewood to last through the days, instead of the harshness of life outside–textbooks, exams, business suits, morning commutes. But, maybe it could snow so much that the trainyard is a great white sea of windswept snow dunes, engines rolling gradually, bumps underneath an outstretched linen sheet.
we could bury what we have to do after we're done here. we could let it ice over beneath the weight of lake effect snow and imagine the whole thing will stay frozen forever to the soundtrack of trumpet and fuzz and the crackle of a fireplace, okay?
5.2.08
on having found the democracy in myself
pure, unadulterated, completely inspirational propoganda. and, if it were a milkshake, i would drink it to the final slurp.
on it having been awhile
because of where i am, i don't know if i've got a lot to say.
maybe that will change, and i will someday re-enter the blogosphere,
fearlessly emboldened enough to believe in democracy.
maybe that will change, and i will someday re-enter the blogosphere,
fearlessly emboldened enough to believe in democracy.
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