The Sunchoke

along with its color and film are indicators of health and disease.   So I read and how can it not be true?

Major developments since last coherent message tossed ashore: none.

My thoughts are not me.  I am not my thoughts.

We get what we need to meet the faces we meet in the mirror in the street.  Writing is like chewing and it takes a while to get going.

Coming

http://www.reuters.com/article/latestCrisis/idUSN19435659

there’s no question: i could not live like Bukowski. Years of isolation, prowling the shelves at bars and public libraries. real aloneness and not a phase. I need. meaning, friends, morning time sun.

But then, i can’t get away from him either. the jobs that come and go, even not getting fired or walking out. mentally leaving, checking out for a few months. seeing the crazy people who are well-dressed and disciplined. the movements that fade out into abstraction because the thing concret is at best monstrous or more likely simply ineffective and shallow. today i walked up the hill to Rosenstiel feeling thrown back into everyday life. what is everyday life? vegetative existence, not necessarily lacking computations, but without decisions, or with a certain plane of decision that is parallel to its support. Everyday life, with one and only one decision: the decision to continue.

Dear Blog,

you and coffee and various non- and un-non-sexual fantasies are what I need to do productive work in the mornings. i hope wordpress makes a billion dollars off of  you, because they deserve it.

me

This city faces inwardly. Its better not to have opinions about large abstract groups, except this one of course.  They will surprise you after all.

Yet tonight I realized the best place to meet people seems to be Great Oats, or whatever they call it, where the food is very expensive and partially organic.  The shelves are so narrow in this old building on Prospect Street, and everyone’s half sweaty or perhaps it’s just me being totally sweaty and I’m averaging out, so you’re constantly bumping into people and sharing a very tight space.  However, while i might assume this would lead to uptightness and bad feelings – which surely it does, just not tonight – instead people seem almost happy to share a stranger’s sweat.  I mean, hey, you must have good taste to shop for food the same place as I do, right? :)

Starting a blog is like falling in love.