I don't have time to work today, but I will, because I didn't cancel, and because I need my job. I think I found a fourth roommate, so the housing situation is taken care of for the summer at the least. The starbucks is playing lady gaga, and the baristas are wearing little hats made of coffee sleeves and rubber bands. The puppy tied up outside the store seems to be afraid that his owner has been raptured. Don't worry, little guy, that was last Saturday, and we're all safe now. His bark is so shrill, and he seems to be in love with everyone, especially his owner, who looks an awful lot like a Norwegian Liev Schreiber.
It is now 20 minutes between now and work. I should spend this time working on my honors project, or calling Anya back, but I'd rather let my fingers run across this dirty keyboard (sometimes the O key sticks and my words-per-minute drops by half) beating out the kind of rhythm you'd expect if the Animal Collective and DJ Shadow made a record on a designer drug cocktail during a minor earthquake. I would not be the least bit surprised if that actually happened.
It is now 10 minutes between now and work. The other day, I sat down with Noah and we looked over our statistics for our respective blogs. Whenever I look at that stats page, I immediately feel two diametrically opposed emotions. 1) man, nobody reads this thing. I have, like... three views a week. 2) Who the heck is reading this thing? I haven't updated in a month? Who was reading posts from over a year ago? Blogging is a strange thing. Sometimes I want to say something, and sometimes I just want to say, like today. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll realize that it's nothing. I'm just blowing off steam, or smoke. Have you ever really watched smoke? The way it curls up, twisting like a ribbon, stretching like plastic wrap, until it dissipates into the wind. Smoke is some cool shit. Noah has more views than I do.
It is now 2 minutes between now and work. I'm not going to read this over before I post it. I wonder if I said anything regrettable. I guess I'll find out. I followed a new blog over the weekend. It's a girl from my hometown, a friend of my sister. She talks a lot about faith. I don't think she knows that it's me. I hope she doesn't mind. I hope I didn't creep her out. I maybe did. We'll see.
Hey guys... we're gonna be okay.
It is now 20 minutes between now and work. I should spend this time working on my honors project, or calling Anya back, but I'd rather let my fingers run across this dirty keyboard (sometimes the O key sticks and my words-per-minute drops by half) beating out the kind of rhythm you'd expect if the Animal Collective and DJ Shadow made a record on a designer drug cocktail during a minor earthquake. I would not be the least bit surprised if that actually happened.
It is now 10 minutes between now and work. The other day, I sat down with Noah and we looked over our statistics for our respective blogs. Whenever I look at that stats page, I immediately feel two diametrically opposed emotions. 1) man, nobody reads this thing. I have, like... three views a week. 2) Who the heck is reading this thing? I haven't updated in a month? Who was reading posts from over a year ago? Blogging is a strange thing. Sometimes I want to say something, and sometimes I just want to say, like today. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll realize that it's nothing. I'm just blowing off steam, or smoke. Have you ever really watched smoke? The way it curls up, twisting like a ribbon, stretching like plastic wrap, until it dissipates into the wind. Smoke is some cool shit. Noah has more views than I do.
It is now 2 minutes between now and work. I'm not going to read this over before I post it. I wonder if I said anything regrettable. I guess I'll find out. I followed a new blog over the weekend. It's a girl from my hometown, a friend of my sister. She talks a lot about faith. I don't think she knows that it's me. I hope she doesn't mind. I hope I didn't creep her out. I maybe did. We'll see.
Hey guys... we're gonna be okay.
Posts
Yeah... we are gonna be okay.
ReplyDeleteThanks Zeek.
ReplyDeleteHey, I read your post! Isn't it interesting how we are like smoke? Vapor. We vanish into nothingness, but in the midst of our vanishing, in the brief years that we pass on this earth, there is something there. Something meaningful. Something worthwhile. Like a curl or a twisting of smoke. Something beautiful.
ReplyDelete