Gotta be careful w/me self, I’m pretty wide open on this one and the feelings are intense. Yow. Hella good tho, so long as I stay sane and don’t jump it all.

It’s late and I have to go to bed, clearly.

I should never post tired.

“Everybody I know is falling apart
Everybody I know wants to die…
…wants to find…”

God almighty this music gets me. I don’t know how the rest of world gets on without this disc.

I have to get myself a guitar and start doin’ that thing again.

Have . to .

In the middle of the day,
on the open street,
you see for blocks and blocks ahead of you,
pavement, buildings, pedestrian dreams—
as though your destination
was your destiny,
your footsteps
your fantasy,
your outer reach
a New York mile.

And then you walk, sure, like always,
but you don’t
(with that sneer on your face)
let yourself think you gonna get there
before the music stops
before the lights change
before the sun goes down.

‘Cause when those gaslamps come on up,
with their green-yellow pathos,
you’ll still be walking,
hands in pockets,
hat pulled low,
cigarette in mouth…

…and everybody needs to live,
and everybody needs to die,
and everybody has a story in the city
that’ll never get told,
where they don’t wait for salvation,
or the sun to rise again,
and the blocks go on forever.
(Cigarette in mouth.)

Keep this in mind, brother,
and pull on back.

In the crux of the moment,
just pull on back.

Okay, I was feeling a bit inspired and was gonna come home and write. Then I get here. No good. Absolutely no good. This is not a writing space right now. I don’t know if it ever will be. The I-House room in Chicago, on the other hand, was perfect.

The space you are in has a massive effect on your ability to know (and to say) what you mean. This is not an “honest” space in any sense of the word, it is a constructed space. It reflects little about me or anything I know or think, and doesn’t support my being (literally—there is no place in the room in which I am comfortable).

On top of that, I had a big, hairy business email to respond to. Dammit, now I am all uninspired after typing that lengthy reply. Fuckfuckfuck, I hate that.

Everything in life is in good shape right now. Okay, not the details. Those are a disaster. Behind schedule, no money, healthy as the bends, sleeping so often I can almost remember what it’s like, etc. But the other things, the things that matter—those are amazing.

I am so fond of my life sometimes… Must sound odd, but it’s true. It’s not just that lovely things are happening (they are, by the way)—it’s that I’ve been sailing this ship for so long I’ve come to love it, idiosyncratic and a bit leaky even though it may be. We’ve been everywhere together, my life and I.

—

I’m taking a day to do some things that need to be done. I’ll do a little make-up time on Saturday for the office, but for today I am working on:

– Photos
– Meta-academics (i.e. conferences, journals, roles, blah, blah)
– Couple phone calls

—

It’s snowing; little flurries are wandering past my window, aimlessly exploring New York. They look almost bored. Perfect, absolutely perfect.