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subscribeAurora Borealis
Wednesday, June 27
You pay more for the room in the International Space Station with the view of the Aurora Borealis, but it's worth it.
Flavor and Legos
Following on the heels of the success of new Strawberry Meth, there is now a growing trend in cocaine traffickers adding flavors and charging 40 percent more for them. read more
If you have a ton of free time, why not build an entire aircraft carrier out of Legos? read more
If you have a ton of free time, why not build an entire aircraft carrier out of Legos? read more
Chris Jordan photography
Wednesday, June 20
Chris Jordan's photographs merge statistics and art. His new series "looks at contemporary American culture through the austere lens of statistics. Each image portrays a specific quantity of something: fifteen million sheets of office paper (five minutes of paper use); 106,000 aluminum cans (thirty seconds of can consumption) and so on. ..." (link, then click Running the Numbers)
untitled (March 30, 2007)
Tuesday, June 19
After a rain it is very green where we live
The reds and greens become saturated and the pale blue sky gives way
Things are different when you wear that dress
The white one that you slip into an hour before we leave
I stand near you on cement steps while you sit on the porch swing
Smoking another cigarette and thinking of something commonplace
I imagine
I look across the way into the trees and think of darker times
The days when I was less vulnerable and less trusting
Surrounding myself with ambitious friends with
Little clarity of purpose and too little kindness
We were very small people in very big shoes
These days I drink milk and you drink coffee
Because something changed, and for every liquid moment of love and kindness
The taste of saccharine still lingers in the air, too sweet
Commonplace thoughts amid the persistence of these calming silences
The reds and greens become saturated and the pale blue sky gives way
Things are different when you wear that dress
The white one that you slip into an hour before we leave
I stand near you on cement steps while you sit on the porch swing
Smoking another cigarette and thinking of something commonplace
I imagine
I look across the way into the trees and think of darker times
The days when I was less vulnerable and less trusting
Surrounding myself with ambitious friends with
Little clarity of purpose and too little kindness
We were very small people in very big shoes
These days I drink milk and you drink coffee
Because something changed, and for every liquid moment of love and kindness
The taste of saccharine still lingers in the air, too sweet
Commonplace thoughts amid the persistence of these calming silences
Monday, June 18
Take a deep breath
Amazement and solicitude and destiny
Attentive care and protectiveness
What is love?
Amazement and solicitude and destiny
Attentive care and protectiveness
What is love?
The Examined Life
Thursday, June 14
To paint a life-sized self-portrait of yourself
To smile at the shadows, the unperfect
To speak in the subjunctive tense, the language of unknown possibilities
To tell the truth every day of your life
Find something beautiful to show a friend, something small
You will know joy again, you will know what every child knows
All of the strange perfect uncontrollably beautiful thoughts of daily life
The reflection of yourself in your lovers eyes
And her voice when she promises, when she speaks of secrets
Confusion is a mist in your eyes, the beautiful things are already all around
To smile at the shadows, the unperfect
To speak in the subjunctive tense, the language of unknown possibilities
To tell the truth every day of your life
Find something beautiful to show a friend, something small
You will know joy again, you will know what every child knows
All of the strange perfect uncontrollably beautiful thoughts of daily life
The reflection of yourself in your lovers eyes
And her voice when she promises, when she speaks of secrets
Confusion is a mist in your eyes, the beautiful things are already all around
you shall above all things be glad and young
Monday, June 11
you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're young,whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
- e.e. cummings
Oxytocin deficits
Friday, June 8
Laying it on the line, making phone calls when you don't know what to say, leaving yellow sticky notes when your friend is away. Bravery and courage, honesty; sometimes these things don't improve difficult situations.
I don't want to react. Maybe it's denial. I don't want changes, not these changes. I want to be left alone so I don't have to talk about it and I want to be around people so I can be reminded that I am loved. I don't want to be such an emotional person but it's my greatest blessing. I feel sick to my stomach.
Sometimes when I am upset and typing on a keyboard my left eardrum vibrates like someone turned up the bass too high. It's uncomfortable. My recent dreams have been comprised of conversations with close friends, one on one conversations. I wake up and forget the words but appreciate them. Thank you.
Only one song made me feel better today, Baby's Coming Back to Me, by Jarvis Cocker. If you've heard the album, it's the song with the xylophone backing.
I don't want to react. Maybe it's denial. I don't want changes, not these changes. I want to be left alone so I don't have to talk about it and I want to be around people so I can be reminded that I am loved. I don't want to be such an emotional person but it's my greatest blessing. I feel sick to my stomach.
Sometimes when I am upset and typing on a keyboard my left eardrum vibrates like someone turned up the bass too high. It's uncomfortable. My recent dreams have been comprised of conversations with close friends, one on one conversations. I wake up and forget the words but appreciate them. Thank you.
Only one song made me feel better today, Baby's Coming Back to Me, by Jarvis Cocker. If you've heard the album, it's the song with the xylophone backing.
Outside there's children laughing
The radio plays my favourite song
The sun is shinning
Oh and peace broke out in the world
And no-one says a cruel word
And peace is the sweetest sound I've ever heard
And baby's coming back to me
Yeah, baby's coming back to me
Yeah, baby's coming back to me
Yeah, baby's coming home
She was just sleeping somewhere
Now she's come back to hold my hand
And we go walking
And the years have all melted away
Yeah I remember you like yesterday
And the summer's here so say goodbye to rain
And baby's coming back to me...
I feel like I am surely dreaming
How can things oh-so-quickly change?
Well, it's strange but true
I'm telling you truthfully, see:
Oh, baby's coming back to me
Yeah, baby's coming back to me
Yeah, baby's coming back to me
My baby's coming home
everyone is asleep
let's plant flowers
they'll never know
let's plant flowers
they'll never know
Kübler-Ross
Thursday, June 7
Here is a diagram of the Kübler-Ross stages of grief, showing how some emotional responses to change are active (e.g., anger) and others are passive (e.g., depression): 
But where are faith, hope, love, and patience? Which are active, which are passive?
But where are faith, hope, love, and patience? Which are active, which are passive?Lunchables
I refuse to eat breakfast before 1pm; it's summertime. Give me sunshine for breakfast.
Making love is a meaningful kiss and nothing more. A road trip is a relationship you enter freely. A porch swing is privacy and solitude. The future is sublime and the present is sometimes filled with conflict and horror and other times with passion and patience.
This is a blog entry, a blog entry before breakfast.
Making love is a meaningful kiss and nothing more. A road trip is a relationship you enter freely. A porch swing is privacy and solitude. The future is sublime and the present is sometimes filled with conflict and horror and other times with passion and patience.
This is a blog entry, a blog entry before breakfast.
Nigeria
Wednesday, June 6
Today I got two emails from the Central Bank of Nigeria. They want to be friends with me and they want me to help them out with some financial transactions. It must be hard to be a banker in Nigeria if they need my help.
I am le tired, but I refuse to take a nap today. I aim to do something productive or meaningful, but ... well, it's more likely to happen now that I am having some caffeine.
Blog, blog, blog. I'm blogging. I'm a blogger. What does that even mean? London is calling...
I am le tired, but I refuse to take a nap today. I aim to do something productive or meaningful, but ... well, it's more likely to happen now that I am having some caffeine.
Blog, blog, blog. I'm blogging. I'm a blogger. What does that even mean? London is calling...
The National
Tuesday, June 5
The new album by the National, Boxer, is really good. The lyrics are minimalistic, as usual, yet approachable. I looked up concerts since they are on tour and they will be in England while I am there but hours away from London. They are touring the states as well but not coming near Austin. Bloody hell.Turn the light out say goodnight
no thinking for a little while
lets not try to figure out everything at once
It’s hard to keep track of you falling through the sky
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
more from the past
Monday, June 4
from July 22, 2006
posted for a friend
Black boxes
A writer’s truth
I’ve seen you walking along the waterfront
Every day of my life
Someone just like me
An old friend, and counsel
Letting it go and trying to hold it in
The war, waiting
I want to know your face
Touch your heart
I am such a child
*************************************
Sitting on my porch
Rolling my mind across your
Waves of compassion
Running through the rain
My feet trembling, again
Addicted to loneliness
posted for a friend
Black boxes
A writer’s truth
I’ve seen you walking along the waterfront
Every day of my life
Someone just like me
An old friend, and counsel
Letting it go and trying to hold it in
The war, waiting
I want to know your face
Touch your heart
I am such a child
*************************************
Sitting on my porch
Rolling my mind across your
Waves of compassion
Running through the rain
My feet trembling, again
Addicted to loneliness
