January 2012
this place has run its course.
bye now.
“And now it’s late, close to the wolfing hour of soul-lack. But she knows,...”
December 2011
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bodies.
there is so much life out there in the long, cold dark. wrapped in layers of polymers, skin redolent of the freezing wind, there you are, a hot animal machine tearing through the winter night. how amazing and terrifying our bodies, needing only to be fed, these burning foundries spouting fire and blood, and force. the unceasing flesh, one billionth heartbeat, the taste of copper in the back of our...
I’m going for a ride. the first ride after I moved and settled. it’s 39 degrees.
RUN SHADOWFAX, SHOW US THE MEANING OF HASTE.
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“What seems to have defined me more is that I’m pretty horrible at relationships...”
– Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen in “Portlandia” : The New Yorker
Active Child live set on KEXP.
I’m spending the first snowfall sitting in front of my floor-to-ceiling windows and reading The Book of Lawlessness: Documents of the Ministry for Public Security, 1944-56. it’s been a long, long while since the last time I didn’t feel the need to stay in constant motion.
I’m starting to get obsessed with Arctic submarine patrols.
