Saturday 12/02/2006
01:12:31 AM
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There was a line in the sand. On the other side the summer sunshine blinded me with so much goodness that I could see no end to the path of joy. I couldn't see the end that I knew was there, somewhere. I knew that someday I would walk into the land of darkness. I'm here now, just beyond the brink. The winter sun now lights my way. It is so feeble, low, and cold. Now it is the path of shadows that has no end. Each day is unbearable, each night even worse. There are but two options here: to crawl onward on hands and knees, or to drink a bottle of wine and sleep until spring.
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Sunday 05/07/2006
11:05:58 AM
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"Hi, I'm Manny the Martian. What's your favorite flavor bowling ball?" Works almost two out of three times for starting a conversation.
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Wednesday 08/17/2005
12:08:42 PM
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Brett keeps bugging me to use my "blog", so in the interest of placating him I am using this forum to tell the world about my nifty new banjo/guitar/mandolin chord generating script.
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Monday 05/10/2004
10:05:13 PM
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Brian squatted by the ditch and looked out across the desert.
His fingers mechanically caressed the thick scratches on his neck and chest, traced the shallow lines down through the tangled hair to his shorts. They examined the other scratches on his legs, made by shrubs and thickets in the endless miles of desert between here and the town.
His eyes grazed over the sun in the sky. It was just after three. A heavy whisper of hot wind blew
across the desert, burying the smaller noise of tiny animals breathing. Pebbles clattered and clinked down the slope. Brian twisted his eyes without moving his feet, but there was nobody coming up the trail.
Brian's hands picked up and cradled a rock. It was grey and smooth, as large as a child's head and
slightly oblong, like an ostrich egg at the museum. He raised the rock above his head and checked
the sun once more. Quickly he brought the rock down in a smooth, heavy arc. Again he raised it
high, paused, and hurried its fall along the same terminal curve. Then he tossed it aside, let it
tumble and slide to the bottom of the ditch without thinking of it ....
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Wednesday 05/05/2004
02:05:23 PM
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Gotta write. Even when there's nothing to say. Gotta get stiff pinkys, sore pointers tapping aeiou all day. Woo new styles. Babble ridiculous and offensive. Bounce verbs in where nouns go, English is so stretchy. Practice makes perfect.
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Monday 04/26/2004
02:04:04 AM
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The new 'Vette, man, has way too much power for the little people. Just sit there, top down, sun shining on me and nobody but me. Every head turning to envy, wishing they could spend just five minutes in my life. I'm used to people wanting me, to be me. So when I see something I want, I just take it. Roll up real slow. Vroom, vroom. "Hey, beautiful, you going somewhere?" Lip lick, giggle. "Then get on in and let's ride." Almost too easy.
hagiography n. 1. biography of saints or venerated persons. 2. idealizing or idolizing biography. --hagiographer n. --hagiographic, hagiographical adj.
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Monday 04/26/2004
12:04:16 AM
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In the desert at night you lie on the ground eyeing the stars. The first and final darkness among them flows into you. You are cold; they are colder. Infinitely colder and beyond all caring about you, about you giving them names or counting them: One, Two. Times two times two times two until unconsciousness. And in your dreams the stars remain beyond you. More than beyond: they exist; you do not exist. You are nothing.
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Friday 04/23/2004
11:04:52 PM
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Nobody ever warned me about them. What do you do when a heaving mass of woman darts from the shadows to your side, pressing brittle sticks of some common branch into your unwilling palm? She clutched at my shirt while babbling some tired and untrue fortune. "Dejame en paz, bruja gitana!" I yelled, and pushed her violently aside.
The wave of gypsy fat enveloped me immediately. Half a dozen wriggling pink tongues, her comrades, murmured angrily past hundreds of tiny yellow teeth. The smell of chorizo was overpowering. I collapsed beneath an onslaught of slaps and curses. On the ground I lost all orientation. Clawing and scrabbling in a forest of veiny legs. Suffocating beneath a mountain of anger. Finally, I tumbled into the street and ran. They were left far behind in an instant, but their curses followed me home.
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Friday 04/23/2004
04:04:05 AM
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It's 4 AM. Do you know where you're children are?
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Thursday 04/22/2004
01:04:01 PM
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I am concerned that the documentation project is feeding an incipient megalomania. There is a strong temptation to manufacture a life, to market an image of Barry Shapira far greater than the actual Barry Shapira. How much time can I spend recounting a fiction of my life before it totally absorbs me?
megalomania n. A psychopathological condition marked by fantasies of power, wealth, or omnipotence. --megalomaniac n. --megalomaniacal adj.
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