Little Thoughts

Why did he say that she
January 6, 2016, 11:21 am
Filed under: In a Nutshell

Relies on the kindness of others because she was never kind to herself.


Not just hope, I believe that it will come for me. And for you.
November 4, 2015, 11:23 am
Filed under: I Wrote This For You
I think I’m starting to get to a place really, or I guess maybe I’m just seeing more progress in being able to live with myself when life isn’t exactly how I want it to be. Going to bed and knowing that life is a long game and not a sprint. Having that vision and perspective to be excited about what can come from hard work and trying new things, instead getting caught in why it’s not perfect right now. And that the only way to make a change sustainable in life is to put in the work. This guy at a meeting a couple weeks ago said that for him drugs and whatever else were just like a telescope that he could use to see up close the top of the mountain that he wanted to get to, and that it was a trick that let him feel like he was actually already on top of the mountain even when he was at the bottom, and the only way to actually get to the top was to actually climb the mountain.
So. I do have hope for a beautiful life for myself. And for you. Not just hope, I believe that it will come for me. And for you.
I’m sitting on some stairs outside the studio and the leaves are changed and in piles and the air is balmy and the tiniest bit humid, but in a way that feels like a soft blanket. And the clouds are that bright silver where you know the sun is just on the other side.

Things to work on
December 4, 2014, 11:38 pm
Filed under: Lists
Follow through
Magnification of small problems/things
Minimization of big problems
Self labeling
Not having a goal
Worrying what others think

“That’s all right. I like to have my heart broken.”
June 25, 2014, 1:31 pm
Filed under: Quotez

In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me. I’m just as glad they haven’t consulted me about the tiresome details. What they have worked out is this: I awake at 5:30, work until 8:00, eat breakfast at home, work until 10:00, walk a few blocks into town, do errands, go to the nearby municipal swimming pool, which I have all to myself, and swim for half an hour, return home at 11:45, read the mail, eat lunch at noon. In the afternoon I do schoolwork, either teach of prepare. When I get home from school at about 5:30, I numb my twanging intellect with several belts of Scotch and water ($5.00/fifth at the State Liquor store, the only liquor store in town. There are loads of bars, though.), cook supper, read and listen to jazz (lots of good music on the radio here), slip off to sleep at ten. I do pushups and sit-ups all the time, and feel as though I am getting lean and sinewy, but maybe not. Last night, time and my body decided to take me to the movies. I saw The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which I took very hard. To an unmoored, middle-aged man like myself, it was heart-breaking. That’s all right. I like to have my heart broken.

– Kurt Vonnegut

That when someone thinks of me they think of you. And when someone thinks of you they think of me.
March 7, 2014, 5:57 pm
Filed under: I Wrote This For You

Not that I’m opposed to or not open to anything, but I don’t actively want to be married, or have children, as in, that’s not the goal right now, so much as just to know that you and I exist, have existed, will continue to exist, and that’s all, everything, no distraction to the subject of who to be with or whether or not this or that is wrong or right or perfect about us. Just that we are. That when someone thinks of me they think of you. And when someone thinks of you they think of me.

A scene I know you’d like
April 30, 2013, 2:46 pm
Filed under: I Wrote This For You

I’m really good. I’m wearing toms for the first time this year and Matty and Mikey’s album is out and I’m listening to it and it’s very sunny and I’m doing laundry and cleaning my room just throwing out old things that I’ve been saving for no reason and I’ve got leftover stew from last night that I made and right now I’m shirtless on the porch in the sun. It’s a scene I know you’d like.

Being Known
October 20, 2012, 7:30 pm
Filed under: Thoughts for the day

I worry that I get lazy. When someone seems close to me, when they know so much about me that I start to feel comfortable and begin to be known, I am satisfied. That is good enough. I close off the last sacred details.

You know those long letters/emails/phone chats you have with people you haven’t seen in forever? Feels like you can express and go on at length because they’ve got so much they don’t know about you and your life, so different from their own. Yes?

Facts: I have been up to this; new job; new girl; trip I took a couple months back. You parse through a multitude of things, because there is so much easy factual information to give them. All this sharing generates this feeling of closeness that opening up brings.

There is an infinity inside my brain every day, I travel and change and ponder and go back and forth every day. But it would be weird to hash that out with people I saw yesterday. Why? Because ostensibly we’re close. Really we can get so mentally far apart in the span of a few hours, because everything-all-of-the-time. But it’s that OSTENSIBLY close. That makes me comfortable enough to not need to be open and honest every day.

Closing off to a person close to you over the little details makes them seem farther away than the far away person who you can open up to about nothing special.