June 2009
2 posts
life as a library
In real life I know a boy named, let’s say, Ethan. Or used to know. When Ethan was 26 he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was shot and killed.
In dream life last night he was also gone, but a few people didn’t know. I was at a bar, drinking alone (so like real life!), and the bartender said, “Oh my god it’s Ethan! Ethan’s right behind you!” I...
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You don't have a personality
Terribly disturbing dream last night. Children were being abused. I was involved somehow. I remember walking by a cat and petting it and thinking, “Huh. I’m nice to animals and violent to little kids. Isn’t that bizarre?” Then just walking on. All of my friends were involved. We were doing everything we could to hide the evidence before the children’s parents...
May 2009
6 posts
"And the bridges smell like chocolate ... "
Today I drove to a random location in Chicago, parked the car, got out and started walking. I didn’t have my camera with me, so here are other people’s pictures of things I saw:
I walked up and down these bridges. For hours. At one point a bus went down one really fast and the whole bridge started trembling and I thought, Oh God, this is it.
A man on one of these bridges...
Oh, Chicago.
I walked for two hours along the lake yesterday. And in those two hours I must have said “Oh, Chicago,” 30 times. I said it once when I realized the trail was going to lead me straight into the mouth of a moving bulldozer, once when I almost got run over by a group of kids using the path for jackass type skateboard stunts, and once when I rounded the planetarium and almost suffocated...
ghosts
Yesterday I dropped by my old grade school to pay my niece’s tuition. I hadn’t been there since the 80’s, and I was surprised to find that everything was exactly as I remembered it. The walls were still pale green and tile, the doors were still dark brown and peeling, and the floors still smelled like lemon.
My sister was with me and we traded stories as we toured the...
hair birds
Something kind of lovely happened yesterday. The mansion down the street turned into an art gallery. I went inside and walked around. There was an old-fashioned piano, the kind that predated 88 keys and was made for humans 4 foot something. There were ensconced fireplaces, blurry mirrors, and creaking wooden floors. And birds made out of hair by some crazy girl. And gold paper spheres...
Oh, anecdotes.
Oh, anecdotes. I once had so many of you, though you were all variations of only a few themes (water, good! dreams, interesting! strangers, crazy!). I have less anecdotes these days because of the whole not leaving the house thing. Instead, I have twitter sized observations. For instance:
- My Christmas tree is still up.
- There are planes flying advertisements outside my window.
- My...
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