“Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning / I sit around / Trying…”
One tries to find what one doesn’t have, but one can’t know something until one has that experience; for experience is the greatest teacher, and the greatest ignorance is regarding oneself; and ignorance begets cruelty.
It’s trying, sometimes.
“…It's a cruel, cruel summer / Leaving…”
5/16/10
5/14/10
5/13/10
A comic about how a fake wikipage about a word about the creation of fake words from improper usage satires the creation of wikipages from lack of notability. Then a real wikipage is created because it's notable, but only for having a fake wikipage in the comic satirizing non-notable pages. Then, the deletion of the real wikipage becomes notable because of the fact that it has been deleted, so the result is a wikipage that lacks encyclopedic content: a redirect which fails to explain the term, and a link to a discussion on the proper usage of a redirect!
Oh my God everyone what are you doing.
Oh my God everyone what are you doing.
5/11/10
5/10/10
Well it's just how I struggle with being seen, you know. How we feel and worry about others judging us, but people really don't. I don't know. It wrapped around on itself and got a little lost, so I can't much explain it.
Oh poor little idea. Ideas need shepherds. I mean, please tell me you can see the little idea shepherd tending to its flock?
They live in the pillow from my living room at Rosebury.
Dreams are meant to be silent, forgotten, or realized- not explained.
Oh poor little idea. Ideas need shepherds. I mean, please tell me you can see the little idea shepherd tending to its flock?
They live in the pillow from my living room at Rosebury.
Dreams are meant to be silent, forgotten, or realized- not explained.
5/8/10
A decent setup and a Queensland Chief Justice away from making an original “Owed on a Grecian Earn” joke.
5/7/10
5/6/10
“You’ll probably move right through / Me on my way…”
A dark lit place: the empty shadows of spines and faces, down the silent entomed aisles. The shroud of a false form is removed, and pinned to an empty wall. Memories are cleared out, what’s forgotten swept away, and the rest is peace. For Orpheus knew it a mistake to look back, but at least then he will have seen what will be lost as he exits the underworld. And then it’s over.
“…I’m not paralyzed…”
A dark lit place: the empty shadows of spines and faces, down the silent entomed aisles. The shroud of a false form is removed, and pinned to an empty wall. Memories are cleared out, what’s forgotten swept away, and the rest is peace. For Orpheus knew it a mistake to look back, but at least then he will have seen what will be lost as he exits the underworld. And then it’s over.
“…I’m not paralyzed…”
5/4/10
5/3/10
I can't remember the last time I was so enrapt by a book that I couldn't wait for my legs to stop moving before reading, until I’m interrupted by P[]'s voice on my walk home, asking if it's Latin; I instinctively apologize that it isn't (even though he's clearly kidding with that K[]-tone where you have to force your mind to accept the possibility that he's not serious) and show him the cover, and he nods and says that I'll like his poems.
The monster loves his labyrinth.
I'm afraid to quote, because I have to pick one, and then what if I pick one that you don't like, and you don't understand why I like it. (But, you do understand. Because you like things too.) The other option is to pick one for me instead of for you, but that's like asking, what's your favorite 1% of this painting- and could you rush your decision before seeing the entirety?
The monster loves his labyrinth.
I'm afraid to quote, because I have to pick one, and then what if I pick one that you don't like, and you don't understand why I like it. (But, you do understand. Because you like things too.) The other option is to pick one for me instead of for you, but that's like asking, what's your favorite 1% of this painting- and could you rush your decision before seeing the entirety?
5/2/10
“I see no changes…”
A whirlwind afternoon, forgetting the morning.
New conversations in the final hours at the gates of the castle, recounting rediscovered explorations.
The sudden sodden rain, danced through a world short an umbrella.
Identity, so desperately trying to be reestablished, before the ultimatum given.
The introduction or closure good host Present so wants to give between guests Past and Future.
“…But things change, and that’s the way it is…”
Metamorphoses
“…Things’ll never be the same, that’s just the way it is…”
A whirlwind afternoon, forgetting the morning.
New conversations in the final hours at the gates of the castle, recounting rediscovered explorations.
The sudden sodden rain, danced through a world short an umbrella.
Identity, so desperately trying to be reestablished, before the ultimatum given.
The introduction or closure good host Present so wants to give between guests Past and Future.
“…But things change, and that’s the way it is…”
Metamorphoses
“…Things’ll never be the same, that’s just the way it is…”
5/1/10
Date Night is incredibly funny when the person with who one is seeing it, when responding to her roommate asking where she is going, inadvertently conflates the name of the movie as “Hot Date”.
"I just realized I was thinking of Hot Tub Time Machine."
"I just realized I was thinking of Hot Tub Time Machine."
4/30/10
It’s like the classic that we always kick ourselves over, for not being the person who does the obvious-in-retrospect acts of creation and distribution that we all should be capable of, if we just had a little more courage and a lot less shame.
An Open Letter to My Future Employer.
After every sentence, I wanted to say, I’ve thought that myself. And then I read the end and I wanted to say, I’ve thought that too.
An Open Letter to My Future Employer.
After every sentence, I wanted to say, I’ve thought that myself. And then I read the end and I wanted to say, I’ve thought that too.
4/29/10
4/28/10
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