September 2009
31 posts
On the way to elementary school
I would peer out the window, and fumble with the seatbelt. Every morning would anticipate seeing the local, crazy, homeless man shouting at himself. I hid safely beyond sight, behind the brim of the backseat window of the family Volvo station wagon. I believed he was mad, dangerous, sick, and lost. Navigating dusty desert highways of his thoughts mapless. Speaking a language foreign to the rest of...
August 2009
22 posts
http://www.something.com/ →
I’m surprised that I expected more.
The finer times
Sometimes I like to compare and contrast the abstract. Like the difference between what someone would call a “drastic” injury today to an injury inflicted in the middle ages. How people say they can’t go to school because they have a stomach ache, verses having been cleaved with an axe, but still going to war with broken bones.
How to the naked ear there are much more types of...
I like my cafe black.
There is no better feeling than getting your road legs back. Much like the well known sea legs, road legs are no different aside from the obvious painful outcome of not having it. Falling on poop deck, or falling on concrete and getting road rash. You decide.
I have to commend Massachusetts for being so easy on me. Total cost to register, transfer title and pay for insurance for an entire year?...
Passion is not transferable. More often than not it’s one sided.