Sorry I neglected posting on you for a
Allegedly- our lives become a manifestation of what goes on in our heads. I think the opposite has to be true as well: what goes on in your life manifests in your head. Either way- my shit has been too scattered so I'm working on flexing a some self awareness that might just be an ability to see patterns in my own behavior.
This is less easy than it sound and I can't get too much thought here in your internetland, but if you somehow get out of the computers and meet me in person I'd be happy to divulge all about what I see happening over the next 2,10,50 months. To be vague: I'm only going to be at my job for so long. There will be many more jobs. My body will only work the way that it currently does for a short period of time. We want what we want, and maybe this whole existential struggle of being young is as simple as realizing that the only thing you can do is what feels right:
Be who you are+ Do what you love= End up where you're supposed to be
Or as someone who got paid to think put it:
"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down."- Ray Bradbury
The pen in hand forecast for this Fall is a big increase in word count.
You were warned,
Speaking of word count: here are a few stabs at the Esquire 79 word short story contest I teased a few weeks ago. It's f'n hard, but I want to submit something (just for fun) so let me know if you like any of these (and feel free to copy/paste/email suggestions or do your own HERE
1) Mitch returned from Panama uselessly bi-lingual. His body language had developed a stutter- it was damn near impossible to tell if he was holding back or pushing himself forward. This resistance wasn't there during the days Mitch and Tara spent lying outside the abbey, filling themselves with mulled wine. He clearly articulated "For what it's worth," before mumbling something about the promised land. Huh? She challenged, still only loving him at the moments when she knew he couldn't budge.
2) My steady diet of espresso and nicotine left me trembling as I pull your oversized note from the mailbox. It scrapes across the open tin door and then plops into the anonymity of a basket on a street. From a small mountain of bills and happy birthday’s and Amazon boxes you're here staring out your doe-eyed flap. Why? You found me here covering my lust with a suit of half-truth. Hush now. A car approaches. We must go inside.
3) The scar across her nose had scabbed over, tanned, and blended in with the rest of her caramel skin. She fights a war every morning- adjusted her glasses just so. According to Amanda's Facebook profile she's been dating someone named Thomas Isaac and they have been to 8 professional sporting events, 2 concerts, and to a Hawaiian resort. She looked more handsome before she lost all that weight. Her happiest smile lived in the deep wrinkles of her cheek.
4) The tree line promises that everything's about to change on this August evening that's marked not by ghosts or sirens but by the uncertainty with which we all wondered when Trip would join us. As long we don't know exactly where he is, he will be anywhere we imagine. Trip fell in love with an America where everyone would sleep naked under stars on the beach, but he would never find it buried under this spot where we wait.