I slept for ten hours. From roughly 3pm to 2am. I woke up, phoned a friend, and sooked some more.
However, today is Monday. I have things to do at work. I’m eternally grateful for a full-time writing job. It demands that I focus in ways outside of my ordinary thought patterns. Continue reading
is a map
to this: place
rhythm. Continue reading
I’ve been limping over the luthier the past few days, and longing for Sperlonga.
The truth is, the love of my life and I didn’t fall out – life simply occurred. International issues with family do nothing for new found feelings. And so it ended, abruptly and instantly. Continue reading
la voce di crepacuore
(essere… causa) perche’
che cosa e
egli ha voluto.
e sono caduto
shock. Continue reading
Last night I was in Brooklyn licking raw Luthier wounds. One of my favorites made the evening, like always.
I tipped topless women and laughed loudly. I was twirled to tracks that played on a juke box in a Cony Island bar, catching up with a bartender I used to see regularly.
I had fun for the first time since my birthday. Last week was a little whack. Continue reading