(A few weeks ago I was on a bender, dying, losing it. Now life is still a mess, but I've grown, become a better human. Loving. trying. Fighting not to lose goodness. When I wrote this I was angry. My eyes were burning from a war, the life, the constant war I feel I've been in. What… Continue reading Unedited Desperation (written over two years ago in Chicago)
Tag: literature
Writing by dead writers, Albert Camus
"And I, too, felt ready to start life all over again. It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign… Continue reading Writing by dead writers, Albert Camus
Writing by dead writers, Edna St. Vincent Millay
Apostrophe To Man Edna St. Vincent Millay 22 February 1892 – 19 October 1950 (On reflecting that the world is ready to go to war again) Detestable race, continue to expunge yourself, die out. Breed faster, crowd, encroach, sing hymns, build bombing airplanes; Make speeches, unveil statues, issue bonds, parade; Convert again into explosives the… Continue reading Writing by dead writers, Edna St. Vincent Millay
What are we?
The sleeping world, and the end of the thoughts. What are we? What am I? These words are paintings of thoughts, of just that, of just there, of voices inside of our heads. Two days, gone. Today, gone. Still, gone. Writing brings back the insanity that I wish I still suffered from. In the basement with black and white… Continue reading What are we?
Last Page of my summer Notebook
What a great few days seeing some old friends, their children, walking into their life after so many years, meeting their new friends, making new arcs and families. What great people I know. I'm proud of the adults they've transformed into. Searching, walking, growing, picking up where time left off, and I wish I lived… Continue reading Last Page of my summer Notebook
Adventures In American Writing 