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?
Tag: philosophy
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
He’s dead. (I think)
Who's there? Nobody. Just my thoughts. WAKE UP. Ok, I'm up. Stretch, some toast and oats and milk, and standing, writing, and WAKE UP. I'm up. What time is it? It's right now. What's the score? Huh? How do you feel? My back hurts from so many days sitting down. Alive? Yes, I guess. … Continue reading He’s dead. (I think)
(C)
(C) See what I’m talking about. My hands are shaking. I walked home. Somebody pulled over on the side of the road. Asked me where Southern is. They were looking for some liquor store. I didn’t have a clue what he was saying. I couldn’t understand him. He was slurring his words, almost if he… Continue reading (C)
Written thoughts by dead writers, Albert Camus
I've never met my literary mentor. He died many years before I stumbled upon his book, The Stranger (or I believe The Outsider is a better translation). I read this book (and then everything he ever printed) in my senior criminology course. And it's not a stretch to say that if I wasn't assigned that book, well then I probably (for better… Continue reading Written thoughts by dead writers, Albert Camus
Adventures In American Writing 