crowings

Illusions abound the ephemeral world. The veil of appearances clouds and distorts, every percept, every dividing boundary an elaborate mask covering some ultimate and inaccessible reality. Every word you speak, every goal you seek, every person you cling to, vain mucking about in the mire. So, desparate for meaning, you create it yourself, from nothing, from imaginings, and bury it that it can be discovered....
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My head is full of clouds, and there's a song constantly streaming through it.

Over the break I embarked on an epic trek, braving snowstorms, flight cancellations, inversions and Western highwaymen (of the patrolling variety) to reach a quiet little cabin in the woods, for a bit of exhausting holiday festivities, diverting with friends, family and hyper-stimulated dogs, only to make the grueling return trip...
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It gets dark so early here. And, while I'm not insensitive to the rapturous luring of fading twilight, I can't say I like it. I think the problem is that two of my strongest instincts, namely my aversion for morning and my inclination (to put it lightly) towards intoxication after dark, combine to squeeze my weekends down to about 4 hours of uninebriated, potentially productive...
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The other day, I was in the middle of writing when a very usual thing happened, namely that I stopped writing and started fooling around on Wikipedia. After several exciting and eclectic tangents in my quest for arcanely superfluous knowledge, I ended up at the history of the semicolon, which contained the following statement:

"The semicolon is frequently considered to be the greatest of the...
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I'm only good at one thing at a time.

The answers that you find yourself are always the best, the most true.

Even if you're always wrong like me.

"And when he had failed to find these boons in things whose laws are known and measurable, they told him he lacked imagination, and was immature because he preferred dream-illusions to the illusions of our physical creation."

"Once in a while, though, he could not help seeing how shallow, fickle, and meaningless all human aspirations are, and how emptily our real impulses contrast with those...
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Song of the moment: "I've got dreams to remember" by the inestimable Otis Redding

Being a bum, a semi-recluse, and a lil bit drug addled, there are few moments in the day when I feel inspired enough to impart some of my thoughts in writing. Being self-centered, self-critical, self-conscious, and any other kind of self- affliction you can think of, I usually end up hating...
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Long and shining silver blades billowing outwards in Chinese fan form dusting off as dazzling stars landscaping new frontier above the glazed horizon humble glory arced steeply rising overhead stretched envelopment falls in pieces binding the ground it pores its forth returning empty potential reminding hustled stirs in august rousing silent currents set swirling to dawn dances cyclic towards impending silver hued night as trees...
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Berlyle sent me on a whirlwind trip the other day
actually it was quite a long time ago
I don't remember much about it

Only the next day, one of the coldest mornings of the year, I was dropped off at Stonebridge's house looking like "I'd just gotten kicked in the face" and entered, where I was greeted by his mother. She told me he...
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