"This is amazing. In a few years we won't even have to dig..."
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
O spiteful and sour abstractions!
I am temporarily losing it. It happens time to time. Where have I put myself this time?
I think I am in North Hollywood. I can't sleep. I am consumed by hatred. I think I am the only person who's really accountable to anybody for anything. Everybody else is just kind of pretending, I'm afraid. It all seems very serious to me, except that when I look to everybody else they don't appear to share my concern. They phase in and out of reality. Then one moment maybe they are more concerned. I can't tell. What am I concerned about? Then maybe they are less concerned. One moment and then another and another. An inconsistent mathematical theorem, never learned or even memorized, traces invisible tactile synesthesias like plastic draperies over every thought, over every perception, received or transmitted or fed backward, withinward, or otherwise over and over, suffocating the wonder that is the truth of our condition... I am lost and all I know is that I have given far more than I should ever expect to receive. O spiteful and sour abstractions! Shall I compare thee to a bummer's rain? Nay! Just lie! Lay! The sun rises o'er another day! Die! Stay! Go away! The heavens cry, abruptly, and quiet agayne. Ain't that November? Ain't that just what they say? Aye! And sweet, sweet summer such a long ways away...
I think I am in North Hollywood. I can't sleep. I am consumed by hatred. I think I am the only person who's really accountable to anybody for anything. Everybody else is just kind of pretending, I'm afraid. It all seems very serious to me, except that when I look to everybody else they don't appear to share my concern. They phase in and out of reality. Then one moment maybe they are more concerned. I can't tell. What am I concerned about? Then maybe they are less concerned. One moment and then another and another. An inconsistent mathematical theorem, never learned or even memorized, traces invisible tactile synesthesias like plastic draperies over every thought, over every perception, received or transmitted or fed backward, withinward, or otherwise over and over, suffocating the wonder that is the truth of our condition... I am lost and all I know is that I have given far more than I should ever expect to receive. O spiteful and sour abstractions! Shall I compare thee to a bummer's rain? Nay! Just lie! Lay! The sun rises o'er another day! Die! Stay! Go away! The heavens cry, abruptly, and quiet agayne. Ain't that November? Ain't that just what they say? Aye! And sweet, sweet summer such a long ways away...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Quick Ranch Adoption Update
I am at Justin and Kaisa's house and I am so very happy that Betsy, the hip-twisted cancer case of a dog has come back. Her tumor was removed--it was in an available spot for the vet, and he has judged that she has more quality time left. We're still not sure whether or not her tumor is benign or malignant, but the tumor of the moment is out. She can pee and digest. She seems happy. I am happy.
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