Blessings ( Read more... )

The sky is going gray but the leaves are holding their green for a little longer. At two in the morning, the trucks have all passed away and bicycles whip northwards and as I watch from my window I'm falling back and forward in time. It makes me homesick for a place I haven't yet seen. There are cigarette butts on the gymnasium steps. Your keyboard ( Read more... )

I'm taking a really amazing improv class right now... definitely the best theater class I've had since Shakesperf. (I miss you, Mr. Shelby, wherever you are. I miss the way you would creep up behind me and hit me on the head with your clipboard. No one does that any more.) Anyway, this class is so impeccably structured-- there's this horrible ( Read more... )

It's been heavy and drizzling the past few days. I feel a quietness coming back that's been gone for a while. Just smoked a cigarette out the window. Wished you were here, Colleen. The cloud we've been living in has lifted for a while and the street is like a mirror reflecting the stoplights and headlights ( Read more... )

It's like having your leg amputated. You know the gangrene would have eventually destroyed you, but it was still awfully nice to have two legs ( Read more... )

Ah, feeling so much better. I had the epic Week From Hell-- lost a friend, lost an amazing writer, rejected from 3 plays, sun shining blithely on misfortune, etc. I went down to bluestockings to see aaron and met this really awesome photographer guy named Joe who also works there. He's also a hungarian gypsy. Fucking great ( Read more... )

And on top of it all, david foster wallace hanged himself.

So I'm back in New York. It's starting to feel like home. I have my own room and a really adorably neurotic set of suitemates. More about them later. I had the most horrific experience yesterday, woke up at 5 AM in excruciating pain Down There, like someone was trying to fuck me with a pincushion, and spent the next three hours (painfully) peeing ( Read more... )

10. Christian diet books ( Read more... )

Bad dreams last night, sort of Boschian. The most vivid image I can remember is my brother pouring gasoline over a baby goat and setting it on fire. The whole thing took place on some sun-scorched post-apocalyptic highway going nowhere. Later on someone was laughing and stabbing me in the back and I was throwing up blood and trying to laugh as well ( Read more... )