January 2012
Do more.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail Better.
-Samuel Beckett
Song of the year.
Letter Divine_Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
I can’t explain why it is. It just is. Listen and find out for yourself.
Not taking more chances
Falling in love
Falling out of love
These aren’t necessarily things that were new to the year, 2011, just things that made an impression on me.
I really shouldn’t be writing right now; every sentence I jot down sounds like lyrics from an Elliot Smith song.
December 2011
All of my senses work in my dreams. I can smell, taste, and touch in my dreams. Sometimes it freaks me out.
Do any of you?
“Sorry, your call startled me”
“Were you sleeping again?”
“I guess I was…”
“What do you mean, you guess you were?”
“I guess I was dreaming…I thought I was having cereal in the kitchen. I was staring at the clock on the wall and the phone started to ring, only, when I looked at the phone, it was one of those old-fashioned wall phones with the spinny dial thing. I stared at it for a minute and then I woke up on the couch with the cordless under my pillow.”
“Jesus, Mike.” I laughed at this because it sounded like she was talking to both Jesus and myself.
“I gotta get back to work. go back to the doctor and see if he can do anything about your being tired all the time.”
I went to the doctor. I went to a few doctors. They all had ideas. Everyone has ideas. Hell, I have ideas.
I’ve been writing more recently
Alive but barely. But still not blogging. Happier this way.
that’s insensitive.
If all else fails, I’ll write children’s books. There’s a ton of money in that. I’m gonna get in on some of that rainbow.
I’m sorry that it had to end. Perhaps I will post a picture of the back of my head at some point.
I’m in the napping-mood. I wish I had someone to take a nap with.
Do you ever lie awake at night thinking of ridiculous inventions that would make you stupid rich, but could never exist by any stretch of the human imagination?
neat.
I love this time of year…
I feel so…purposeful
My will to actually get my work done and to actually study for finals, is spurred on ONLY by my desire to get into a good graduate school program.
Alive: Neil Degrasse Tyson
Dead: Samuel Beckett
For any of you who wish to read my latest column: a humor piece on the artistic expression of bathroom graffiti vandalizers at Montclair State University.
It may be one of the last articles I write for the paper—not sure if I will continue to be a columnist for my final semester at MSU. So, I decided to go out with a bang and just write a really inane, and absurd article—which, as it turned out, people really liked.
Hope you will decide to click here and read it: http://www.themontclarion.org/archives/3741973
People speak with such neglect these days, with such
callous disregard for what they wish to relate.
No wonder, when you wipe a sentence from your lips,
some of the words smudge to the corners
of your mouth, and the punctuation marks find themselves
lodged, like poppy seeds, between your sharp teeth.
Like a photograph of a one year old, who has just been given
its first slice of birthday cake—and has decided
the icing would taste better smeared all over its forehead—you’ve
decided that the alphabet, would look much nicer
if you rearranged it to match whatever shoes you’re wearing
today.