Dream Sequence In the park, across from my office I sit where the hotel should be. It is a very urban park. Futuristic, the sum of the green movement. I’m in a park, across from work, at some point in history where it would seem the post industrial world has long been moved on from.… Continue reading Room 713 ( unedited draft)
Tag: writer
‘The Mad Storks’, Writing by Dead Writers, David Foster Wallace, #2
[It had started with Orin Incandenza, the cleaning. When relations were strained, or she was seized with anxiety at the seriousness and possible permanence of the thing in the back Bay's co-op, the getting high and cleaning became an important exercise, like creative visualization, a preview of the discipline and order with which she could survive alone if it came to that. She would get high and visualize herself… Continue reading ‘The Mad Storks’, Writing by Dead Writers, David Foster Wallace, #2
Over Here!Alone.Ah…
Toshiba Cobalt Blue and I are slowly choosing becoming exiles, for now.
I am where the wild things are.
Always. We're in this thing together. These words are what binds us, ghosts, forever, links us alive with the goodness of the human chain of events; zeros, light, stars, crunch, tears, yes, we're here. love. peace. Be nice. Be cool. Be you. Calm the sway of life. Learn. Grow. Drop. Fail. Just keep going. The world… Continue reading I am where the wild things are.
Adventures In American Writing 