admission...

... I traveled to work via Metro this AM in my jammies.

That, or I slept last night in my clothes.

looking left and leaving

Heartbreak, feel free to mock me. And in turn, let's pretend that you were a two season blessing and not a regular curse. Everything else can remain as it is, as it was. I won't ask for any other lie. I'll own to what I did, what I didn't do.

Waking up next to you in the morning, I did not know how hard that would be. Held tightly by your numerous, merciless tentacles, you stole the day's breath from me. By choice, I believed in the logic of you. The unconquered fear. The words, dearer a girl cannot say, that pounded against your soundless ears he should have heard. With the scent of his leather jacket tantalizing my brain, I left blank-faced and cold. You provided the pain, friends the tequila and the cold chased itself away.

Had I shed my armour and shown my heart he would have melted. For me. But never had I surrendered anything like my heart. Never made myself so vulnerable or so strong. Never asked myself to change.

Heartbreak, feel free to mock me. You know better than any the extent of my folly, my foolishness, my excuses, my doldrums, my depressions, my frightened unbelief. Mock me as you will and know that I hate you.

the limits of bitter & sweet

You are submerged in the mass of freedom, and you push and shove with the others in the station waiting room. You absent-mindedly examine announcements posted there, even though they can hardly have any relevance for you. You sit on the ancient passenger benches, and you hear strange and insignificant conversations: about some husband who beats up his wife or has left her; and some mother-in-law who, for some reason, does not get along with her daughter-in-law; how neighbors in communal apartments make personal use of the electric outlets in the corridor and don't wipe their feet; and how someone is in someone else's way at the office; and how someone has been offered a good job but can't make up his mind to move -- how can he move bag and baggage, is that so easy? You listen to all this, and the goose pimples of rejection run up and down your spine: to you the true measure of things in the Universe is so clear! The measure of all weaknesses and all passions! And these sinners aren't fated to perceive it. The only one there who is alive, truly alive, is incorporeal you, and all these others are simply mistaken in thinking themselves alive.

And an unbridgeable chasm divides you! You cannot cry out to them, nor weep over them, nor shake them by the shoulder: after all, you are a disembodied spirit, you are a ghost, and they are material bodies.

And how can you bring it home to them? By an inspiration? By a vision? A dream? Brothers! People! Why has life been given you? In the deep, deaf stillness of midnight, the doors of the death cells are being swung open -- and great-souled people are being dragged out to be shot. On all the railroads of the country this very minute, right now, people who have just been fed salt herring are licking their dry lips with bitter tongues. They dream of the happiness of stretching one's legs and of the relief one feels after going to the toilet. In Orotukan the earth thaws only in summer and only to the depth of three feet -- and only then can they bury the bones of those who died during the winter. And you have the right to arrange your own life under the blue sky and the hot sun, to get a drink of water, to stretch, to travel wherever you like without a convoy. So what's this about unwiped feet? And what's this about a mother-in-law? What about the main thing in life, all its riddles? If you want, I'll spell it out for you right now. Do not pursue what is illusory -- property and position: all that is gained at the expense of your nerves decade after decade, and is confiscated in one fell night. Live with a steady superiority over life -- don't be afraid of misfortune, and do not yearn after happiness; it is, after all, all the same: the bitter doesn't last forever, and the sweet never fills the cup to overflowing. It is enough if you don't freeze in the cold and if thirst and hunger don't claw at your insides. If your back isn't broken, if your feet can walk, if both arms can bend, if both eyes see, and if both ears hear, then whom should you envy? And why? Our envy of others devours us most of all. Rub your eyes and purify your heart -- and prize above all else in the world those who love you and who wish you well. Do not hurt them or scold them, and never part from any of them in anger; after all, you simply do not know: it might be your last act before your arrest, and that will be how you are imprinted in their memory!

A. Solzhenitsyn

from a recent conversation

There exists a place of luscious, unimaginable abundance. A warm spring hidden in the cold of northern extremes. A canyon rift perilous to enter, treacherous to escape. An Eden shorn of life’s breath. A valley of death, disfigured in perfection.

In chorus, old wives and aged warriors insist that the Sick Heart is a curse, that it is death. They know of its beauty, its danger. “Stay clear,” they warn. "Join us, the masses, and choose the path far from it."

But the passionate feel what they know not, do what they ought not, become what they can not. They search with single purpose that must bare the lonely beauty of death's river to their hungry eye. They will find their heart's desire. And wish themselves away.

deep thinking hurts

One of the downsides to employment (other than being instantly un-dateable) is the probability that one's hardhearted employer doesn't shout "Hey everyone -- gather round. In recognition of some really really supposedly hard work, lets take the summer off. What do you say?!?"

Followed by energetic high-fives all around, of course.

a mime in gold paint makes this song work

People all get ready'
Cos we're tearing down the stand
Rebuild what's gone unsteady
And see it through with newer hands
And what has gone between us
Is a lot, is a lot
And who'll be there to clean us
When you're not, when you're not

People all get ready'
Cos we're breaking down again
Rebuild what's gone unsteady
And see it through with wiser hands
And what has gone before us
Is a lot, is a lot
And who'll be there to ignore us
When you're not, when you're not

We have all the time in the world
To get it right, to get it right
We have all the love in the world
To set alight, to set alight

People all get ready'
Cos we're breaking down the band
Rewrite what's gone already
And see it through with angry hands
And what has gone before us
Is a lot, is a lot
And who'll be there to ignore us
When you're not, when you're not

And we have all the time in the world
To get it right, to get it right
And we have all the love in the world
To set alight, to set alight
Just look up, just look up

a secret that I’m divulging to no one in particular

I want to play golf again.

I mean, I would like to hit golf balls and see what happens. Maybe.

It depends.

something wise someone wise once told me

Yes, I think that caring for loved ones trumps public service and 'changing the world' – and I believe that until recently only men made these kinds of foolish mistakes.

another post about food

I didn’t enjoy living in Washington DC – the area, but I like living in Washington DC – the city. It’s nice because one can get most places either by walking for a few minutes or taking the Metro or both. My apartment is 2 ½ blocks from the local library and the local library is directly across the street from Vace, the Italian deli with the best pizza in DC.* Can you guess how many visits to the library conveniently turn into “well since I’m practically there, might as well get a slice”?!?**

It's a good thing I have to walk at least as far as the Metro everyday, otherwise I’d be horribly fat from all that delicious deliciousness! Sometimes, I even make up things to do just so that I have to walk to do them. For example, this coming Saturday I'm going to walk the 5 blocks to the zoo, and not because I enjoy gawking at overfed animals. Indeed, the thought of all this strenuous exercise is almost as fat-burning as actually doing it. Almost! At any rate, my plan is to go early in the day and then, on the walk back, stop at Vace for a slice.

* Stated more accurately: "the Italian deli with the best pizza I've had in DC."

**In case you were wondering, the answer is YES; I moved to my current neighborhood and sold my car because I wanted to live near the pizza place. In my defense, they also sell freshly made pasta and incredibly tasty gelato. So I didn’t move just for pizza. Really!!!