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Another brief, incoherent entry. It’s been a long week. As I write through my handwritten journal, I find myself drifting off and staring into space out where my thoughts are, somewhere. Birthdays are post-it notes of mortality. I definitely feel 30. I’m tired all the time. I can read up to 5 pages in a…… Continue reading post-it

These are lunch notes. Underlying tensions probably always exist. I turned 30 today. Reading “Blindness” by Jose Saramago, an intense story that won a Nobel Prize for Literature, about an epidemic of blindness where the victims are cloaked by white instead of black, very much a freakish Twilight Zone feel to it. And Spring, warmer…… Continue reading random notes

know your math the world around you is going to hell I’m gonna surf it *** I’m a patient boy I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait *** walks are so refreshing I take the back alleys not the main streets this is how you really get to learn your city *** love opposes…… Continue reading notes . . .

Last night I found out that my cousin is in jail for 1st degree murder. He had to go and blow someone’s head off from the mouth up. Now at 32, basically his life is over. Either he will be given the death sentence or life in prison.

Who’s this life belong to? Tea at lip’s burning edge of mouth, timbers of house. Align the dishes perfectly, for perfection you have to spend some time with it, and even then it is only perfect for just a little time and has to be redesigned. Deserving of in and out breathing, chewing food and…… Continue reading that feeling you get when you step on a slug; that one. sunshine is here. where am I?

Time becomes the most important thing. There can be so little of it, just like that, all of a sudden. I find myself so busy at work. Even doing something like coming back home and watching a movie is too much. Last night by 8 o’clock I was out cold. I woke up around 2…… Continue reading chipped mask on display

You know what I say – power is power. Problems are everywhere. I feel it in a soreness. I’ll get a letter, or a phone call, something nice and automated letting me know I’m owing in plain English. Should I put a nice little note for them on the check? No one reads the notes…… Continue reading power is power

stumbling down to a float over tile aisles, hand reaching for the dish liquid and that lemon spray for the air. no one has a straight forward answer. their answer is that they like to hear themselves talk, everything else is milk pouring into the black coffee. color values. where the hell is my swatch…… Continue reading co-op

Had dinner and I swear the sugar has contorted my mind into a cocker-spaniel. Fingers flutter over the keyboard. Here I sort of go with the flow, returning from the road, the slush, the filthy slush.