Obligations Out The Window
I’ve had some work to complete tonight, as well as a poem or two. But I’m ditching all that for sleep. So the week continues.
Archive for October, 2003
Friday Night Phone Tag
Got a call from St. Ego earlier tonight, and we chatted on the phone a good long while. He’s got a habit of calling up everyone he knows online (and many of us have given him our phone numbers willingly), and hops from conversation to converastion like the proverbial Internet social butterfly that he is. Tonight, I chatted with him…
What To Make Of It
I’ve been debating back and forth all day on this. The whole image becomes either incredibly positive, or incredibly bleak, depending on my mood. At times, I think that someone was hurt, and experienced a loss: a random traveller mugged in the alley. At other times, I think that someone was blessed: they found a discarded bit of luggage in…
And Technically…
Now that I’m thinking about it… you got to see a break in, a while back. High drama! You can forgive me a handful of slow news days after something like that.
Actually…
It’s 11:10 PM. Grabbed a drink at the Artful Dodger, and talked computers instead. Go figure. :) We hashed out several ideas, and hit on one that we both were excited about pursuing. We get a lot of ideas, the two of us, but rarely see them through. I’m hoping this one’s the exception, because it’ll be a lot of…
Activity++
Two days of straight to bed, and now I’m off to go drinking with Justin. It’s about 8:01 PM. We’re going to grab a bite to eat, and then I feel we’ll be talking women and relationships the remainder of the night. Back in a bit.
Hard To Tell
This week has been remarkably tame, and yet I’m coming home feeling utterly spent. No idea why. I seem to be able to fight past it if I sit down in front of my computer for an hour, and keep busy. Usually a second wind comes along. But today’s been weird. Justin mentioned going to see Kill Bill, which I’ve…
Unconsciousness Made My Decision For Me
I walked in the door, and felt completely exhausted. I felt similarly last night, but kept busy in front of a computer and got a second wind back. But tonight – I just felt beat for some reason. At about 6:30, I jumped into bed and picked up book. Started reading some. Fell asleep, and woke up about 3 and…
Inventory
by Felix Jung The burglars left small signs, like signatures: a door locked partially, a window cracked, two footprints in the mud outside. These months without you left me dark, and now the bedroom lights look wrong, lit up against the dusk. Along the hallway, half a year ago, we stood here crying, kissing. Love’s a thief, some say. But…
It Feels Like Cheating
I guess this is an interesting way for you to experience the classic dilemma of what is written vs. what is implied. My concern here is that I’m using too much of what’s transpired a few days ago in the poem (below). Specifically, I worry that I’m relying on a backstory that isn’t necessarily in the writing. If you’ve been…
Damn
Looks like it’s over. Nothing much has changed over the past two weeks or so.
Alright
I’ve typed like six paragraphs of ranting/complaining, and deleted them all. I’m doing nothing productive here, and typing just to have something to post. So you know what? I’m going to sleep.
Ugh
Technically, it’s not even Sunday. It’s 1:31 AM, Monday morning. I’m still up, and working on a slot machine game that’s supposed to be up and running for three of our NY stations tomorrow. Er, today. I’m picking up Justin in a few hours, so we can head in early and start the day on NY time. I feel bad….
Weird
I haven’t eaten anything today. I’ve felt hungry, off and on. But no food. For someone who thinks about food an awful lot, I’ve found this a bit weird. I don’t know what this means. Today, I got up somewhat early, went to Target, bought a bunch of supplies, and picked up around the apartment. Fucked around on the computer…
Hell Froze Over
This should be interesting. So far, I’m liking it. But I haven’t seriously explored the settings yet. If you’re curious, download iTunes for Windows.