fiction for you from Rob Schrab:
She wasn't very nice to me. I thought I could change her heart. Because I saw something in her.
...hope. Hope that life was more than just staying alive. And that all this crazy stuff would be worth it...because at the end of this...
she would be with me.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A building concern
I found a quote while researching William S. Burroughs for a class. If I were better at this academic bit I would be smart enough to remember who I am quoting. Enjoy!
"The Cutter, the Exterminator, the old man of The Assassins Mountain can hope that the truth will make us free. But it may also damn us to a stasis stripped of plausibility. And at best in the resultant silence to say goodbye we are caught forever in the act of saying goodbye with no energy left to greet anything else..."
"The Cutter, the Exterminator, the old man of The Assassins Mountain can hope that the truth will make us free. But it may also damn us to a stasis stripped of plausibility. And at best in the resultant silence to say goodbye we are caught forever in the act of saying goodbye with no energy left to greet anything else..."
Sunday, April 12, 2009
An open apology to whoever in the hell comes next
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have designs on you"
emotion->belief->agenda->outcome. Everything I have to offer now or probably will.
my assertion to whatever comes next. This is all I have to say tonight.
emotion->belief->agenda->outcome. Everything I have to offer now or probably will.
my assertion to whatever comes next. This is all I have to say tonight.
the end
Friday, April 10, 2009
New
An update for those still paying attention:
I've been to the beach 3 times in the last few weeks. I intend to go at least 4 more times before I am a graduate. In the recent past I have: turned some corners on my own personal code of ethics, participated in a 500 person pillow fight, gotten my tickets to Coachella, played in the ocean, spent a night running in circles with previously stated crush, driven myself into the ground about 3 to 5 times and had my academic career saved by a certain Professor Dickey. Also-Ratatat! Life has been a series of fun-filled adventures punctuated by moments of melancholy/responsibility. There are no complaints.
So-on to the complaints: no (real) money, crappy car, no girl, lack of laser eyes or career goals, possible upcoming awkward moments with friends, newly reestablished aggressive tendencies peppered with narcissism, laziness and the general lack of adventure. Keeping all of these things in mind, I am doing well while trying my best not to lose perspective. This is the precarious balance I believe I am bound to in my life in general. Nothing is new and yet everything changes. At the moment all I can do is just choose to enjoy it.
I've been to the beach 3 times in the last few weeks. I intend to go at least 4 more times before I am a graduate. In the recent past I have: turned some corners on my own personal code of ethics, participated in a 500 person pillow fight, gotten my tickets to Coachella, played in the ocean, spent a night running in circles with previously stated crush, driven myself into the ground about 3 to 5 times and had my academic career saved by a certain Professor Dickey. Also-Ratatat! Life has been a series of fun-filled adventures punctuated by moments of melancholy/responsibility. There are no complaints.
So-on to the complaints: no (real) money, crappy car, no girl, lack of laser eyes or career goals, possible upcoming awkward moments with friends, newly reestablished aggressive tendencies peppered with narcissism, laziness and the general lack of adventure. Keeping all of these things in mind, I am doing well while trying my best not to lose perspective. This is the precarious balance I believe I am bound to in my life in general. Nothing is new and yet everything changes. At the moment all I can do is just choose to enjoy it.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Frustrations
To the fictional opponent of my imagining:
It was once said that the caliber of a man can be measured by the size of his hat. If this bit of Victorian wisdom were applied to the real world, you sir would be wearing an ant-sized fez firmly lodged up your ass, where invariably your head resides. If I were to pass you on the street I would not spit in your direction, but only because my spit is more valuable to me than your existence. I once made a mixed alcoholic beverage and named it in your honor, it was made entirely of cheap whiskey, vermouth and dog shit. Rather than serving this to even my worst enemy, I ran it through the garbage disposal and thought lovingly of you.
Frankly sir, I am tired of your entire existence and would like to list a few of your finer traits before I say goodbye. I abhor your picassoesque nose, your beady eyes, your too-strange-for-words feet, the way you lisp your "eshes", your shy but off-putting nature which lumps you in with only the highest order of serial killer suspects, your flippant yet kind wastrel tendencies, your excess of sentimentality plastered on the moral character of a syphilitic dog, the shambling words which make up your mindless speech, and, of course, the way you wear your hat.
If sir, you feel that this correspondence somehow mis-characterizes your finer traits (as if these things were truly in existence), I challenge you to respond in kind with whatever sub-coherent speech or pictogram that your underdeveloped mind can conjure up.
Sincerely yours,
William R. Fennimore-Cooper Cobblesmith Esq.
It was once said that the caliber of a man can be measured by the size of his hat. If this bit of Victorian wisdom were applied to the real world, you sir would be wearing an ant-sized fez firmly lodged up your ass, where invariably your head resides. If I were to pass you on the street I would not spit in your direction, but only because my spit is more valuable to me than your existence. I once made a mixed alcoholic beverage and named it in your honor, it was made entirely of cheap whiskey, vermouth and dog shit. Rather than serving this to even my worst enemy, I ran it through the garbage disposal and thought lovingly of you.
Frankly sir, I am tired of your entire existence and would like to list a few of your finer traits before I say goodbye. I abhor your picassoesque nose, your beady eyes, your too-strange-for-words feet, the way you lisp your "eshes", your shy but off-putting nature which lumps you in with only the highest order of serial killer suspects, your flippant yet kind wastrel tendencies, your excess of sentimentality plastered on the moral character of a syphilitic dog, the shambling words which make up your mindless speech, and, of course, the way you wear your hat.
If sir, you feel that this correspondence somehow mis-characterizes your finer traits (as if these things were truly in existence), I challenge you to respond in kind with whatever sub-coherent speech or pictogram that your underdeveloped mind can conjure up.
Sincerely yours,
William R. Fennimore-Cooper Cobblesmith Esq.
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