July 2012
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carmelo hugging michelle obama. the end.
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[there were so many things I wanted to show you.]
the way light fills the bedroom well before the sun rises above the horizon.
fireflies in the forest at dusk. with no other lights, the fireflies fill the space in a way I’ve never experienced. the blinking and flashing seem endless. if magic exists, this is it.
standing on the porch under the stars at midnight. vega is very bright and directly...
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a few words on the affordable care act, because that’s pretty much all there is to read about today.
important things are happening today, and maybe at some level I’m in some sort of position to make some strong, divisive comment, but I won’t. I’ve always been a bit resistant to developing a decisive commitment to one side or the other of many political issues. I’ll happy speak out strongly for...
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please, she said, tell me what you’re thinking.
it’s an absurd request. our minds, unedited by guilt or shame, are selfish and unkind, and the majority of our thoughts, at any given time, are not for public consumption, because they would either be hurtful or else just make us look like the selfish and unkind bastards we are. we don’t share our thoughts, we share carefully sanitized, watered-down...
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if you live in new york state — or if you have eyes and ears and some vague concept of how a successful political campaign website might look — click here. seriously. you will thank me. everyone will thank me.
[can’t wait to be a registered new york state voter.]
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to create and perform music is a human instinct. it is one of the true universals of our species. to take an extreme example, the neuroscientist aniruddh d. patel points to the pirahã, a small tribe in the brazilian amazon: “members of this culture speak a language without numbers or a concept of counting. their language has no fixed terms for colors. they have no creation myths, and they do not...
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be brave enough to break your own heart.
— cheryl strayed
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nine books that make you undateable
We hold our breath and hope for Woolf or Wharton or Waugh—anything but Rand!—because a person’s favorite book is like a family member or a mantra. It’s an essential component of their life and can paint a pretty clear picture of their character.
[and, quoted by the above article:]
dealbreaker: she’s the wrong kind of smart
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“poets are always taking the weather so personally.”
– j. d. salinger
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Our Brains Often Fail to Notice Key Words That Can Change the Whole Meaning of a Sentence
[after realizing that I made a fucking ridiculous mistake in cover letters I sent out in application to over fifty jobs, I fortuitously ran across this article at science daily. after laughing about it for a minute or two, I figured I’d let you all enjoy this tiny consolation as much as I am.]
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[tuesday afternoon thoughts.]
the combination of heat, humidity, and the air’s absolutely stillness have made it painfully difficult to concentrate. my brain is buzzing with summer and is wildly distracted.
I haven’t had a meaningful in-person conversation with anyone my age since mid-may. the closest I’ve come is a few skype conversations, but that just reminds me of an...
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when your body temperature approximates that of the breeze, there are few movements that feel necessary. of those that do, few are sharp; everything is covered in a sleepy gauze. if we close our eyes, it’ll be morning again.
— tracy wan | extricating
[today. I’m melting.]
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[I’ve applied for fifty-three jobs in the last three weeks. I just realized that one word was misspelled in — I think — every single cover letter I sent out. I read through and customized every single cover letter and, still, I missed that one word. someone please say something that will make me want to die a little less right now.]
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lady gaga | kaboom ft. kalenna
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[I can only assume that the people living in the apartment across the street from mine recently began regularly closing their blinds because they’re sick of watching me dance around my apartment in my underwear. ]
I wrote that while taking a break from dancing around my apartment in my underwear.
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[thoughts I have while running.]
it’s difficult sometimes to find the line between using the expansive lexical offerings of our language to accurately and precisely convey each specific idea and pretension, isn’t it?
I tend to find words by feeling their contours to determine which best represents my particular thoughts. my hands know the words before my mind does; they form shapes...
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moments trip gently along over here. snow caps the bushes in unexpected ways, birds shoot and spin like balls of sound. my feet hum over the dry walks. a storm smoothes the sky, impounding the city lights, returning to us a dull yellow glow. I run every other day at the small indoor track [at Columbia] which slants slightly upward like a plate; I stretch long and slow, twist and shake, the...
