5.21.2008

You want the name? Why? But it is lost, you see, the name I mean, lost in its own epistemology, it won't be of as much use to you as you think, and besides there is a good deal of work involved--do you realize that, the work I mean?--but anyway, yes, fine, you can have it.

5.20.2008

The alarm will go off in about twenty seconds, and there are no discrete areas. Well, Steve, I reckon we should just wait here until the police begin arriving--cover your ears, if you must.

Rain later, as I walked back into town.

5.19.2008

This sentence has been withheld for a later date.

This sentence has been withheld for a later date.

This sentence has been withheld for a later date.

5.18.2008

We all live in Murkah.

Rain in the evening and we laughed as the bachelorette party kept banging their chairs against the windows. Our cards built themselves into houses and we became birds, flying up through them and trying to laugh as kings and queens fluttered to the floor and we continued higher, laughing--or at least cheeping.

5.17.2008

To the place to pick up the thingsm and we did, briars grabbing at our skin, and came back, sweating in the midday sun while unloading the truck, a policeman watching us from the shade of the church parking lot.

A particularly crazed installment of the guerrilla theatre in the evening, marraige proposals and mendacity, cut-ups and cross dressing. Somehow it all ended--or at least was closer to ending--at 2:45 a.m. with a group of us on the roof of the building above Malaprop's, Brezny vehemently proclaiming that someone's underwear should be run up the flagpole and Adam saying that he had borrowed both the bra and panties he was wearing from his roommate so we couldn't use them.

5.16.2008

These old men on the sidewalk have long forgotten their names and identities, they shuffle along on bent knees with small, even steps along straight monotonous lines, disregarding the winding and torturous paths of the rest of us as we pass by. The alleys are the footnotes to the avenues, and the sidewalks are the punctuation to the streets. Many sidewalks in the city are currently closed because of ongoing construction.

5.15.2008

Reigning Sound. Very loud, late, and good. A few extra footsteps in the night raindrops never hurt anyone, except maybe that man wearing a the cardboard suit over there.

5.14.2008

I am lately often overcome with an extremely heavy feeling of how strange this all is; these lives we lead, the worries, the travails, happinesses. Flourescent lights and interstate highway strips. We are all tightrope walkers ignoring the wind.

5.13.2008

It reminds us that we are all capable of doing horrible things, and also shows us why we do not have to do them.

Watch me try to understand. Cry if you must.

5.12.2008

Is there no way, Steve, for things to become less crazy?

Scientific laws cannot be validated, only falsified. So then generalizations can be treated as provisionally valid until proven false, and the more severe a test a generalization passes the more valid it can be considered.

5.10.2008

Lately I have been worrying about the economic state, we are at an odd time. Things seem so tenuous. But they keep going, and inevitably will continue to, somehow.

5.9.2008

The cd release reading for Julian V. at my house, one of the most enjoyable events I've ever organized. Julian is an electrified performer, you cannot avert your eyes, there is no choice but to give yourself over to his world. The evening had so many good moments that it became easier to lose track than to keep or try to find it.

5.8.2008

Yes, I noticed that you were acting differently, but, given those circumstances, I would never hold it against you.

The lemon of pink.

I guess things wouldn't be any fun if they were fair.

5.7.2008

All of the readers of these things are for me imaginary, if only I can now bring things over a little to make them--you, a little more real. Antagonize you.

The whole construct will apex with the Planet Shit going to war with the Planet Fan and, well, you know the rest.

5.6.2008

Two-year anniversary with L., how these events pile up. She woke up with a fever, and I cared for her, went out to get her medicine, had dinner at the J&S Cafeteria--not exactly the evening that was anticipated.

We should probably enjoy our worries, lest we never have them again.

5.5.2008

Dad's birthday, and also my brother's. We all think of each other as the wind blows, a styrofoam plate skipping along on its way to somewhere, the wind just enough to draw a tear. At least I think that was the wind and I think someone else was born today and someone else probably died today too anyway.

5.4.2008

Back up the macadam, those familiar bumps, these mountains that surround us with terrifying comfort. Oh how much we ate--it was sinful. All our base are belong to them.

5.3.2008

Let us contemplate the necessity of the expense you incurred--namely the private detective you hired to follow you around in order to assist you in creating a narrative of your daily movements.



I will go ahead and say that I think it was frivolous, completely frivolous. As frivolous as that silly hat you are wearing.

5.2.2008

Off to the Triangle, L. to the Obama rally, Fish and I onward to Durham, hoping to set eyes upon a lock of Whitman's hair.

A gathering of folks at Chris V.'s: we drunk and wrote.

Eunoia.

5.1.2008

L. in car wreck, when I had coincidentally caught rides into town to save on petrol. She is, from what I can tell, alright.

Nothing else to say today.

4.30.2008

A drink with Dennis before his leaving, a nomad on the ice of calendar pages.

Lay off the towel, there will be more sweat later.

There are those things as well, and probably others that we have yet to think of.

4.29.2008

Last night while trying to go to sleep and thinking about all of the things going on in my life, I began thinking about how I would tell Dad about them, were he here. And then had the tear choking realization that I could no longer imagine telling him what I have going on--that I'm too far removed, I've changed too much since then.

Like the movements; I can remember that he moved, but not what his gestures might be, I know that he would say things, but not what they would be or what his voice sounded like.

4.28.2008

I will admit to you, dear reader, that I have a grave fear of installing any wallpaper that has birds printed upon it, lest they fly off and fill my house with their flutterings. You must understand that my house is quite small, and an hours worth of their dropping should barely give us room to walk. This is is not, contrary to whatever you may be thinking, a completely unfounded fear--for there was an incident long in the past about which I will at this time decline to speak.

4.27.2008

If we are going to create friends, then we should also create something for them to do. And we will make all of their actions determined by the rolling of dice! And baseball, they can play baseball!

4.26.2008

Today was the single most productive day of yardwork in the 17 months I have owned my house. Admittedly, that doesn't exactly denote achievements of herculean scope--but, hell, it's something.

If I had a million dollars...I would convert it into the approximately two-hundred or so Euros that would equal.

4.25.2008

Come hither, weekend, let me fondle your time. The plans I have for you!--a marvelous concupiscensce, my open schedule and your intractable hours. We both know that the rain they have forecasted for you is otiose, only there to give the octogenarians something to discuss in line at the J&S Cafeteria.

4.24.2008

Let us congratulate everyone in the world who is currently wearing a green sportcoat on winning The Masters. Unless, that is, their green sportcoat has as multivariated a hue as yours, Steve, and that lining--my god, the lining! In your case we will simply congratulate you on being so sartorially resplendant.

4.23.2008

I have many places to be! the large woman bellowed, collops shaking with truculence, a gallimaufry of gestures clamoring forth from her. The bystanders took sides and began either shouting or laughing--there didn't seem to be a noticeable divergence between the two.

A stranger wandered onto the scene and made the egregious tactical error of asking for directions; he was quickly swallowed by the roiling mass.

4.22.2008

Ordinary facts are arranged into this most curious relationship with time, creating our workdays. This week is already fast becoming a compendium of exhaustion, the days filling themselves with appointments and obligations well before they arrive--a howling atrophy of all else.

The words are just synonymitations of themselves.

4.21.2008

Our dramatis personae will of course include The Shaky Lady, Tommy Tutone and the Dark Angel of Language.

The setting sun bathes in Baudelairian colors. Lights are beginning to come on in our house because the dinner is colorful and they want to have a look at it.

4.20.2008

To Hickory for a meeting with William Blake to discuss coffee.

An unexpected purchase of a seven foot wide red velvet couch.

Evening was spent researching topics such as corporate structure, pitching for startup capital, incorporation law, and the danger of different types of magnets.

4.19.2008

I gave Jeff notice of eviction this morning, an action made no less awkward by its absolute necessity.

My yard, unmowed or raked since last summer, is becoming foreign.

Guerilla theatre in the evening: that wonderful exhiliration.

4.18.2008

Some people are taking the news better than others--reality must, and will, supersede reaction, dust settles dustily.

Documentary about Charles Olson last night: a poorly made but terribly affecting film. After the hours had passed it was just me and Jamie, discussing life.

4.17.2008

And like that we release the news, a flurry of activity, emails, phones ring, curses, hastily arranged lunches.

Our beginnings are brought on by our ends.

This thing keeps moving.

4.16.2008

A meeting, much anticipated, about not the main thing, but the other thing.

A long time since someone that formidable.

We were born to go, and we must all seek those new frontiers of depravity that must, inevitably, exist.

4.15.2008

Shouldn't Tax Day be a holiday?--a way of making the day slightly less awful than the suffering that it is.

Or perhaps the suffering is brought on by a late night at the hospital. Or perhaps the suffering is brought on by the realization that the only realistic and logical thing left is to evict the catalyst of last night, Jeff, from my basement.

4.14.2008

Today we met, discussed, and agreed--we go forward with the biggest thing either of us have ever tried to do.

An afternoon of excitement of the real.

The evening could hardly be described in three sentences, much less the one that we're now halfway through--an evening of accidents, drug overdoses, car chases, and hospital trips, all of which were completely unexpected and supremely perturbing.

4.13.2008

You can take a horse to water--but it is significantly more difficult to drown the horse with your bare hands.

It is just before midnight, a light hail falling: my azaleas are dying right this moment. Their faint screams syncopate together to form a brief tune, fading away already...

4.12.2008

Birthday party today for Jonathan--and a merry time we all had, jumping the fires, shuttling the birdies. Smoke was mastered. We are becoming adept at dodging the slings and arrows of everyday fortune, as children are with dinnertime vegetables.

4.11.2008

Cleaned house for hours today, melancholy as have been all week, strung the clothesline, the memories.

Many things that needed doing this week were passed over.

Things seem a little less pointless now with pen going across page, and SS, Lisa, Mondy, Karen coming for dinner this evening.

4.10.2008

Work all day then seek to enjoy ourselves, etc.

Our words our clothes all these our externalizings, etc.

Bert, you have the repertoire of funny, we have the laughs--you do and so commensurately do we, etc.

4.9.2008

All the names. I yearn for namelessness--not anonymity but rather a lack of signifiers--empty objects. Go fuck yourself, F. de Saussure.

4.8.2008

Very sad today. Not sure why, but still very sad. Am now--in the few minutes before going in to a business meeting--in parking lot listening to a sad song, which probably isn't the best thing to do, but am doing it anyway.

4.7.2008

I've decided not to write today's sentences.

Sometimes it's still dark when something shines.

I guess I lied to you.

4.6.2008

Sometimes I tear pages from an old copy of Moliere, shred them as small as possible, and put them into a milkshake. A trying, you know, to put things over, to get something inside, for once.

Is this existence an irreducible fact?

4.5.2008

Hart Crane would not be amused by this--or perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps he'd be rolling on the floor of my bedroom, knocking things over in his fits and paroxsysms of uncontrollable laughter, at the situation, the irony, the bridgely bridging of the bridgable. Then, eventually he'd pick himself up, take the beer I offer him, maybe one or two of the sesame crackers. Then burst out laughing all over again.

4.4.2008

It is when I see uninteresting theatre shows that I am resolutely sure of what we are to accomplish. Due in large part to the fact that so many people seem pleased to put ordinary things on stage, and everything that I want to create is extraordinary.

You may keep your audience, ordinary theatre shows, we will make our audience along with our shows.

4.3.2008

It's hard to imagine how many houses, churches, graveyards, lives, were moved to make this highway. My father imagined. We'll need gas soon.

4.2.2008

Odd how our atavisms shift--this day that I spent so many years celebrating as my grandmother's birthday, is now and hence thought of as Jonathan's birthday.

A wonderful afternoon, six hours of reading and writing. The scourge of human folly.

4.1.2008

Do not for a second pretend that your idea isn't completely ridiculous--and don't think for a second that I'm not considering it. Even while writing these lines I'm thinking about it.

Complex sleep.