Sometimes I go days without saying anything profound. Or I give out words in meager doles for lack of anything material or emotional to give. But eventually the silent nights accumulate and I cannot accommodate the thrashing of the soul as I kill it every night to go to sleep. Instead of writing the ringing words, I fight them, zenlike, as
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Today, I make a vow never to ingest caffeine again. But I am a nothing with nothing words. The only thing I ever had was a dream of a sound, a rhythm, the thing you hear that is behind every beautiful word, every note, every dream
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I got my friend a life-sized cutout of a model holding a beer bottle. I figured that since he moved to Tacoma, he would be very lonely. He tells me that he does nothing at home because no one lives near him. This way, he won't be as lonely maybe
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Today, I wanted silence. Then I realized that there are two kinds of silence. One where you hear nothing, and one where you hear everything. And that became the koan-like statement for the day. I wanted to tell someone this revelation about the nature of aural tranquility. But I was working all day. The only person I came close to telling was an
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There are times in your life when you forget the taste of real strawberries. But when you have one, it's not as tart as you remember as a kid. It tastes like it was waiting for you to come back to it. And you realize that what you really forgot is how to live.
I don't paint things. I don't like to draw things. I don't see things clearly enough. I only see the echoes of things as they reverberate over and over again in my head. For days, I keep telling myself the same things, over and over again. I recount the same words that I should have said, repeating the sentences that feel important to me. It goes
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