(Actually written at 10:51 this morning, in bed)
The sound of whistling birdsand eleven church bells in the misty rain. Does life need more than this?
My stomach's making noises. We've been at a bit of a standoff lately, my stomach and I. Today I've no desire to turn on my computer, or even the radio. It is a day to sit quietly and digest.
I am reading Murakami and I see what everyone is all swoony about, and I worry slightly that what I'm writing even now is derivative and similar to what many people my age who have read some Murakami might write while sitting in bed drinking tea.
Yesterday I went to a meeting of a group which turned out to be two other people and a plate of nachos. We sat in an alcove at Pauper's Pub and read comedy sketches to one another. I read two that I had written and never intended to share with anyone, particularly. The other two said good things about them. I was pretty happy with them, too. One might be too long, and the other too pointless, but it was good to read them out loud. The two of them then went outside to smoke skinny cigarettes. I went to a show at Comedy Bar and mostly felt like a weirdo. Not sure why. My power level was moderately low, I guess. But I formally met some people who I hadn't yet, like the older guy who always sits in the front row and sketches people while they do scenes.
Tonight is Improv Prom, and I think I won't go (ed. Prediction = true!). It seems like the kind of event not meant for me. I'm not sure what its purpose is. And for me, three nights of improv in a row are a bit much. Actually, I've already had three. (ed. Probably why last night was weird.)
Thinking a lot about Japan again. I sometimes get spring and fall confused. It's a Japan kind of day, in the Nishi Iya sense.
My stomach's making noises. We've been at a bit of a standoff lately, my stomach and I. Today I've no desire to turn on my computer, or even the radio. It is a day to sit quietly and digest.
I am reading Murakami and I see what everyone is all swoony about, and I worry slightly that what I'm writing even now is derivative and similar to what many people my age who have read some Murakami might write while sitting in bed drinking tea.
Yesterday I went to a meeting of a group which turned out to be two other people and a plate of nachos. We sat in an alcove at Pauper's Pub and read comedy sketches to one another. I read two that I had written and never intended to share with anyone, particularly. The other two said good things about them. I was pretty happy with them, too. One might be too long, and the other too pointless, but it was good to read them out loud. The two of them then went outside to smoke skinny cigarettes. I went to a show at Comedy Bar and mostly felt like a weirdo. Not sure why. My power level was moderately low, I guess. But I formally met some people who I hadn't yet, like the older guy who always sits in the front row and sketches people while they do scenes.
Tonight is Improv Prom, and I think I won't go (ed. Prediction = true!). It seems like the kind of event not meant for me. I'm not sure what its purpose is. And for me, three nights of improv in a row are a bit much. Actually, I've already had three. (ed. Probably why last night was weird.)
Thinking a lot about Japan again. I sometimes get spring and fall confused. It's a Japan kind of day, in the Nishi Iya sense.