Interesting Literature.
So, attempting to come back to this livejournal for the umpteenth time this year. The other day I watched an episode of The Critic and thought of Mike, listened to some Helloween and thought of Nick, and pawed through my Werewolf books and thought of Emily. Someday, my friends, when my life is in order...
Anyway, things I feel like posting:
My dad has been a local musician in San Diego for quite sometime, often singing his heart out for little or no pay in coffee shops, bookstores, bars and living rooms. But in recent years, he's actually getting noticed for it:
http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2008/jul/23/music/
That's my dad. Bodhisattva of the dirty blues and jazz humanitarian. I hope I have half of the wit and talent he does when I reach his age.
And in other news, one of my best Ragnarok Online buddies (yes, I still play 5 years later) wrote a poem for me after I told him about a recent event in my life:
I'm waiting in this sheltered place,
Outside is wind and rain,
I'm waiting for my time to come,
The damp is in my brain.
There lays nearby a thing that’s dead,
I see it through the glass,
It's peculiarly unnerving but,
My time has come at last.
I see a dim light through the blur,
It's time to take a trip,
The sheltered place is empty now,
All hands abandoned ship.
Its quite striking as a series of metaphors and images... Would you believe its about being oddly captivated by the sight of a roadkill pigeon while waiting at a wet bus station? Ahaha, I love how language can wrap up seemingly ordinary experiences and make them fantastic.
Anyway, things I feel like posting:
My dad has been a local musician in San Diego for quite sometime, often singing his heart out for little or no pay in coffee shops, bookstores, bars and living rooms. But in recent years, he's actually getting noticed for it:
http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2008/jul/23/music/
That's my dad. Bodhisattva of the dirty blues and jazz humanitarian. I hope I have half of the wit and talent he does when I reach his age.
And in other news, one of my best Ragnarok Online buddies (yes, I still play 5 years later) wrote a poem for me after I told him about a recent event in my life:
I'm waiting in this sheltered place,
Outside is wind and rain,
I'm waiting for my time to come,
The damp is in my brain.
There lays nearby a thing that’s dead,
I see it through the glass,
It's peculiarly unnerving but,
My time has come at last.
I see a dim light through the blur,
It's time to take a trip,
The sheltered place is empty now,
All hands abandoned ship.
Its quite striking as a series of metaphors and images... Would you believe its about being oddly captivated by the sight of a roadkill pigeon while waiting at a wet bus station? Ahaha, I love how language can wrap up seemingly ordinary experiences and make them fantastic.