Category Archives: Stream of Consciousness
149 – And I’m back!
This street is dimmer with all the students on holiday. It’s an eerie quiet in my house, where I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to be. I can’t decide if I should put a record on or dwell in … Continue reading
Filed under Homeness, Short, Stream of Consciousness
145 – many airplane rides ago
201003231815 A friend told me once about some drug that’s meant to mimic the neurological processes of dying. You feel like you’re dying. You see a bright light and reach out to it and all of that. I wondered if … Continue reading
140 – After this, I almost got hit by a car
201009011059 I had kind of a curious interaction with my grocer this morning. He seemed to give me a look when I passed him by on the early part of my trip, and when I went to check out he … Continue reading
133 – oh, yes!
More entries that aren’t written well but mean well. My day ends with a big, big moon and a fistful of blueberries. It is the clasp at the end of eight hours of music and art and photo-taking and wandering … Continue reading
Filed under Beautiful Things, Stream of Consciousness
132 – Switch
Today I ran into about five friends/my editor by happenstance (on four separate occasions), and then about as many folks from Campus Ministry, mostly away from campus. Last night I had written some things about dissatisfaction and social frustration and … Continue reading
Filed under Happy, Messy, Passion, Rambling, Straight Documenting, Stream of Consciousness
127 – another whine (or: want)
I wish my classes didn’t rely so heavily on me typing things or me doing research on the Internet or me operating in a plainly painted computer lab. I’d rather have sit in the cool 50ish degrees swallowing that carnation … Continue reading
Filed under Hopes and Dreams, Passion, Song References, Stream of Consciousness, Whiny
125 – The future will be fine once I make it there
I have no idea what next year is going to look like. I know I’m not working for the paper. I know I am living in the hippie commune. I know I’m…taking classes… Applications are coming out for everything and … Continue reading
Filed under Fear, Short, Stream of Consciousness, This Lie They Call 'Growing Up', Whiny
124 – i keep some good secrets
In middle school I’d wait by the big tree in front of the mobiles at the end of the day, sitting on the electrical box (which we were not supposed to do) and waiting for my ride home. Once I … Continue reading
121 – Long Spoon II
a speedily-written adaptation of the parable of the long spoon You want to know what heaven is like. You’re too tired of earthquakes and rape and being meek and tracing lines between stars you cannot and will not ever reach. … Continue reading
115 – because you can’t just do it whenever you want to; you have to wait
I love walking to class. I love constantly smiling at people and being waved at and called out to. It is what I needed out of this new year and what makes me feel humming again. Things are a little … Continue reading
108 – embouchure
I have this tendency, when I come back to Colorado, to remember that I loved playing music, even if I didn’t miss it while at school (see: last December). I think this is the first time I’ve consciously missed playing … Continue reading
101 – 101 is about continuing to greater numbers
Today I picked red, ripe cherry tomatoes from my father’s backyard garden. I don’t even like tomatoes, generally, but there’s a lot of freedom and charm in squinting my eyes to find the reddest and ripest of these supple little … Continue reading
Protected: 097 – Look Me in the Eyes
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Filed under Ask me for a password if you're a real person, Pensive, People-Watching, Stream of Consciousness
093 – I’ll Believe In Anything
Today has been probably the most comfortable (cozy) day in Colorado so far this summer, if not one of the most comfortable Colorado days I can even remember. Today has been probably one of my most helplessly, blithely liberating days … Continue reading
092 – free-write reflections
Today I wake up intent on writing 250 words about the womb, or a basement, a cave. In some ways they are all very much the same. And I turn on a record (M. Ward: Hold Time, which I fell … Continue reading
