Turned yet another paper in. Found out I’ve got a midterm coming up on Friday. Will this never end? Mentally preparing to really set in on another book, but have yet to line up a publisher. Will be contacting the folks who helped me out last time shortly. Paid some bills, wrote letters to a couple of old friends via U.S. mail after one of them surprised me with a letter. Writing, as in “by hand” with a pen, is quite a visceral experience — I’d forgotten. Too cool. Basically, still trying to figure out what I want to do with myself for life right now and for about the next 5 or 10 years. All I know is that I want it to involve rain, the smell of rain, grass, and just — you know — beauty — the beauty of existence. Big decision, and more than a little overwhelming. Anybody have any ideas?
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§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)