Are the birds getting this emotional?

Alright, this illness of mine (“West Nile Bird Flu”) has officially passed beyond something fun which reminds me of watching Chicago Cubs day games, drinking ginger ale, and skipping school. It has somehow… Continue reading

I’m just illin’ like Bob Dylan

Well, about two weeks ago I had the thought: “Perhaps it would be nice to be sick. Then I could take things easy, spend a few days weak and enthralled by movies, and… Continue reading

Feeling good was easy, Lord

In The Varieties of Religious Experience James quotes the following passage from the life of Theodore Parker, a person about whom I know very little: “I have swum in clear sweet waters all… Continue reading

Dim lights, big city

Scenes from back East, this being only one. Home yesterday. I’m sitting in Logan International Airport, which, I have to believe, is where they set the scene in Garden State where all the… Continue reading

Pandora arrested after noise complaint

Today is the first day of public blogging, though I promise not to write with any less speed, or to give up on the ghosts of Thompson and Kerouac. Yesterday I made it… Continue reading

The lightning sand

Dear blog: I deleted myself from Friendster, cutting the synapses connecting me to fifty well-meaning people, and disconnecting them from God-knows-which singles or activity partners in their hometowns. In the meantime, I’ll keep… Continue reading

First trickle of a stream of consciousness blog

Dear reader: the first in a series of entries, perhaps to be concluded at the end of this one, of random thinking accompanied by the chaotic distraction of live Led Zeppelin music. I’m… Continue reading

A journey of 10,000 miles is a very long journey

Honestly, I feel terrible about the fact that I spent this huge amount of time on the East Coast, enjoying things which were so sweet…(haha, this entry never will be finished now. It’s… Continue reading

Surprise!

It has been strange enough, over the past two days, that I got three hours of sleep on Tuesday night. Last night I fell asleep early, around 10:30, to recover from Tuesday’s party… Continue reading

Two thoughts, two meanings apiece

1. The secret of style is melancholy. 2. The shells that contain and isolate us are made of the intimacies that have abandoned us.