January 2011
8 posts
On Moving
With dust, the vacuum cleaner scoops up the particles of our childhoods, the messes we’ve left behind on the floor and with those boxes filled with our belongings and our joys, the moving van filled with mirrors and sofas and tables and chairs, we drive our memories from one house to another. 
Jan 31st
Death
In the end, it doesn’t matter how we live our lives because we always end up dead. There is no life after death.   Even if, let’s say, there is life after death, those who live their lives against God can never be fully punished like they say we can.  One of the greatest powers among men is the power of unity, and in Hell, everyone is united, everyone is bound together in suffering,...
Jan 28th
Sandbox
When I was a kid we used to play in the sandbox in the garage because we weren’t allowed to go outside and they would never tell us why we weren’t allowed to go outside but we weren’t allowed to go outside and see the trees and beautiful girls in dresses walk through vibrant, summer fields and we were forbidden to smell the aroma of rain and feel the unforgiving sting of winter...
Jan 25th
3 notes
Jan 24th
My Mom Could Kick Your Mom's Ass
My mom is a fucking trooper.  She’s supporting four kids in a messy, chaotic home, while going through a divorce and looking for a new house into which we can move.  She’s doing it all while working a twelve hour shift three or four times a week.  My mom could kick your mom’s ass.
Jan 23rd
From Now On
I need a drinking partner who I can either fool around with while I’m extremely drunk, or who can send me to bed when I start trying to make out with unappealing people.  I would do the same for them.  Before either of us starting drinking, we’d make a mental list together.  We’d point out all the broads or cats we would or would not hook up with, and save each other’s...
Jan 18th
Alarm Clock
I wrestle with my alarm clock because I’d rather stay asleep than wrestle with death.  
Jan 12th
And I keep askin’ myself, “Is it worth it, being alone?” Well I keep, I keep a book. A book of my thoughts on being alone. I remember lying on your floor we were both too drunk I barely knew your home And when I woke everything was the same but I was glad you were there and I remembered your name Then everything, it opened up. Your innocence, it’s frozen. Then...
Jan 3rd