February 2012
32 posts
i'll make this nonsense post instead of re-reading...
been feeling like a fucking kid lately, walking around in too big shoes, trying to read the lips of everyone around me, trying to emulate ”adult-ness” — or to at least say something, think of something. but my mind’s been so blank lately. all i can think of is riding in a car with my dad six years ago when i was mad at him and staring at my feet on the dashboard and him...
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Stephen Sondheim on Leonard Bernstein
Terry Gross: Did you learn anything working with Bernstein and watching him work?
Stephen Sondheim: Oh, sure. A great deal. Yes. Mainly I learned something about courage. I learned – Lenny was never afraid to make big mistakes. He was never afraid to fall off the top rung of the ladder and I learned by implication that the worst thing you can do is fall off a low rung. If you're going to make a mistake, make a huge one.
What is wrong with me
In the past month I’ve lost:
1. My favorite red J. Crew blazer
2. My copy of Paradise Lost
3. My Nalgene
4. My best friend
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“Those were the years I developed my hunger for stories about the outer dark,...”
– Mean Little Deaf Queer, Terry Galloway
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Words with friends
“muthafucka pulled out a titanic on me”
“I think.” Nietzsche cast doubt on this assertion dictated by a grammatical...”
– Milan Kundera in Testaments Betrayed, discussing the meaning of the various prose styles developed by Franz Kafka, Ernest Hemingway, and Friedrich Nietzsche, and how technical details like paragraph structure and the use of semicolons express deeper elements of an author’s thought and purpose.
Good...
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New photos up on my Flickr .. If yer interested. Real old shit.
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Me: I love the English language.
Sarah: You're about to eat a sandwich?
The lightbulb in my room died last week and I haven’t replaced it yet, so I’m typing this on my iPhone instead of writing it in my journal. Nevertheless, yesterday was my first day without you, after a strange day of eating a lot of food, buying cheap beer and chatting with an old friend from high school. We later made our way to a friend of a friend who needed a ride to the party,...
Too. Much. Pizza
Dying.
“How do our lives ravel out into the no-wind, no-sound, the weary gestures...”
– American Roulette:
—William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
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“Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet...”
– John Milton, Paradise Lost (III, 40-50)
January 2012
48 posts
my mama came into town and we went out for brunch and ate a cinnamon roll and sausage and gravy biscuits and cheddar grits with bacon! not only was it fantastic, but it was completely vegan. still not quite sure how they pulled that one off, but it was all delicious. (of course, the only person i want to tell this to is kelsey, but i don’t feel good talking to her yet because she’s...
2000th post
Someone give me a beer. Or a life. (jaikai)
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excitement oozing out my pores! college might actually take me places! (like, um, DC, San Francisco, or MILAN.) but i can’t get my hopes up just yet.
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Plans
I’m only taking twelve hours this semester and I can’t find a job so my latest idea is to devote the rest of my time to drinking, smoking, meeting girls (? Lol jk with my luck), and most importantly writing something I really care about. The idea is a collection of poetry and prose comprising of memories, reveries, and significant events. We’ll see how this goes. I’m also a...
you talk like gravel roads, laid down hastily, slow moving, uncertain; leaving
all leading to dirt and dust
“Fiction needs its specifics, its anchors. It needs also to pass beyond them. It...”
– Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit in the Introduction (via distantheartbeats)
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in my dream i was driving and though i couldn’t remember drinking, i knew i was too drunk, and i miscalculated the curve on an interstate ramp and i slowly lost control of the car. but as i was slipping away, my brain kept trying to keep me awake and conscious, lights and shapes expanded and stretched into long, sloppy lines, but i felt as though i were sinking and nothing hurt, but without...
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Grandaddy - “Chartsengrafs”
