ideology is exhausting. idleness is exhausting. adolescence is ...
i didn't even hear about the London bombings until this afternoon, when i got off the train and came home. and i'm not going to begin with the vain fulminations about how my father was in London earlier this month, i know some other people there now, blah blah, because that's a silly way to go about scaring yourself, not to mention flattering yourself with the notion of international relevance. i imagine the English are taking a healthy attitude towards this, because they've had experience with IRA bombings and such in the past few decades, and maybe are more likely to think of it as just another expression of political violence, which will be around forever, as opposed to some sort of ultimate struggle of civilization against barbarism. the best thing about Britain is that their empire is visibly over.
i'd been with Caitlin and Ben last night. the climate near the lake, where C. lives, is much nicer and softer than in the center of the city where my parents live. lots of sun and air. i brought my bicycle up to her house. we were going to go on a ride together, but there's something wrong with my back tire, it drags a little bit, so we called Ben and went to a silly hippie restaurant nearby with wonderful fried sweet potatoes.
we talked a lot about Chicago. i was conceived in Chicago and born in Boston. Caitlin was conceived in Chicago and flukishly born in Dallas. Ben's father lied to his mother for months after he met her that he was an art student, because she had told him she thought medical students were dull. we said the city seemed imaginary, which is odd for a place like Chicago, with its palpable dirt and heat, unsubtle buildings and lake. but although the nature of the place is anti-theoretical, anti-mythical, it can still be transformed in the mind, although not without some dissonance.
**
a funny sort of parody, entirely expected, of Jonathan Safran Foer. and something else.
**
i applied for some ridiculous jobs, or more accurately just money-accumulating ventures. focus groups and some sort of charity flyering job, pestering passers-by. funny.
**
i talked with Bourek for a few minutes the other night. he was leaving for Ostrava to play here. it was midnight here and eight in the morning there, and he left suddenly because he told me the bus was leaving and he had to work. i would have really liked to be there with them; i miss him much more than he thinks, but i am always very close to some sort of rash and overdramatic decision, to delete all his emails and deliberately forget about him. he would think this is immature and weak of me, but he would be wrong. i'm not going to do it, but the temptation is always there. it would probably be better for my sanity overall.
although i do have his lyrics to translate and his cover picture to draw and my sense of honor prevents me from dropping the ball on that.
i'd been with Caitlin and Ben last night. the climate near the lake, where C. lives, is much nicer and softer than in the center of the city where my parents live. lots of sun and air. i brought my bicycle up to her house. we were going to go on a ride together, but there's something wrong with my back tire, it drags a little bit, so we called Ben and went to a silly hippie restaurant nearby with wonderful fried sweet potatoes.
we talked a lot about Chicago. i was conceived in Chicago and born in Boston. Caitlin was conceived in Chicago and flukishly born in Dallas. Ben's father lied to his mother for months after he met her that he was an art student, because she had told him she thought medical students were dull. we said the city seemed imaginary, which is odd for a place like Chicago, with its palpable dirt and heat, unsubtle buildings and lake. but although the nature of the place is anti-theoretical, anti-mythical, it can still be transformed in the mind, although not without some dissonance.
**
a funny sort of parody, entirely expected, of Jonathan Safran Foer. and something else.
**
i applied for some ridiculous jobs, or more accurately just money-accumulating ventures. focus groups and some sort of charity flyering job, pestering passers-by. funny.
**
i talked with Bourek for a few minutes the other night. he was leaving for Ostrava to play here. it was midnight here and eight in the morning there, and he left suddenly because he told me the bus was leaving and he had to work. i would have really liked to be there with them; i miss him much more than he thinks, but i am always very close to some sort of rash and overdramatic decision, to delete all his emails and deliberately forget about him. he would think this is immature and weak of me, but he would be wrong. i'm not going to do it, but the temptation is always there. it would probably be better for my sanity overall.
although i do have his lyrics to translate and his cover picture to draw and my sense of honor prevents me from dropping the ball on that.