Tonight I played scrabble at a friends house and we bitched about women. He's got girl troubles, I've got girl troubles and we found that our collective girl troubles are pretty similar. Funny how that works. Either he's much better or I'm much worse at scrabble because I beat him by only 1 point.
Work is steadily picking up, which makes Adam a happy boy. There is nothing like paying your bills on time. An older gentlemen told me once that a dollar in your pocket is your best friend. He also had a framed poem on his guest bedroom wall:
then catch the moments as they fly
And use them as ye ought, man.
Believe me, happiness is shy
and comes not aye when sought, man.
I lived with him for a month in 1998. I learned a lot from him in such a short time. It's like that era of my life was when new thoughts and projects and plans where so easy to find. Inspiration was at the bottom of my coffee cup. I kept a journal of the books I was reading, and I would write down quotes and page notations and write essays about what I was reading.
Q - What is taste for you?
Duchamp - A habit. The repetition of something already accepted. If you start something over several times, it becomes taste. Good or bad, it's still the same thing, it's still taste.
"....He would have to adjust to this. He'd naturally fitted himself to the role, for some years now, of friend abandoned or lover discarded. We all know how the thing we secretly fear is not a secret at all but the open and eternal thing that predicts it's own recurrence..."
"I'd just as soon have my books rot when I do. Why should they out live me? They're the reason I'm dying before my time."
Those last two are from Don DeLillo's "Mao II". I haven't picked up a good book in a long time. I've muddled my way through some light fluff in the past few years, but nothing that has any heft to it. Something has changed for me, and I don't necessarily know what it is.
Work is steadily picking up, which makes Adam a happy boy. There is nothing like paying your bills on time. An older gentlemen told me once that a dollar in your pocket is your best friend. He also had a framed poem on his guest bedroom wall:
then catch the moments as they fly
And use them as ye ought, man.
Believe me, happiness is shy
and comes not aye when sought, man.
I lived with him for a month in 1998. I learned a lot from him in such a short time. It's like that era of my life was when new thoughts and projects and plans where so easy to find. Inspiration was at the bottom of my coffee cup. I kept a journal of the books I was reading, and I would write down quotes and page notations and write essays about what I was reading.
Q - What is taste for you?
Duchamp - A habit. The repetition of something already accepted. If you start something over several times, it becomes taste. Good or bad, it's still the same thing, it's still taste.
"....He would have to adjust to this. He'd naturally fitted himself to the role, for some years now, of friend abandoned or lover discarded. We all know how the thing we secretly fear is not a secret at all but the open and eternal thing that predicts it's own recurrence..."
"I'd just as soon have my books rot when I do. Why should they out live me? They're the reason I'm dying before my time."
Those last two are from Don DeLillo's "Mao II". I haven't picked up a good book in a long time. I've muddled my way through some light fluff in the past few years, but nothing that has any heft to it. Something has changed for me, and I don't necessarily know what it is.
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I could use some money, but I'll still get paid for a week or two more, and I start my new one full-time in 2 weeks. I can go in and work a while tomorrow and any other days if I want, too. So.. why the hell not? Though I am a bit sorry for making them have to stretch out to cover my stuff.. but they're corporate. They have a back-up plan with on-calls.