When the day is still an idea and not a reality
Tag Archives: writing
Shower
Waste not want not is not the corporate slogan
More Time
I’ll never stop trying to never forgive myself for taking even one moment from my daughter for myself
Another Name
Fuck I’m late again sorry shit
Push
Late is a flat circle
Honey Crisp
O, honey crisp apple, how do you hold such potential in every little seed?
Ripped Up
Spend your time growing only to have one careless thought ruin it all
Value
More than a $ I’m two $$
Dee
Get tired and call your best friend. Please!
Where I Live
This one has murder most fucked up
Bored
This one’s about the privilege of boredom.
Pace
Hey don’t you even sweat it this time I’m just talking about audience and then getting sidetracked but you know how it goes: I’m staying on the rails of the normal train.
Expectations
1-11-21 I think this time around I’m going to set more realistic expectations. Last time I did this it was my first time doing a daily activity. Daily posts are a lot of work and when I started out I had expectations that I wanted to fill, but as I did it started to feelContinue reading “Expectations”
$107
1-10-21 To be frank I am not sure where to start. I tried to begin a daily journal last year around this time and kept on it pretty steadily until the whole world dissolved to a pandemic. Odd, isn’t it? I was writing strong everyday and then Marie went to Arizona for a dance conferenceContinue reading “$107”
Palimpsest
3/8/20 Sunday’s drip away so sweet. There is sunshine in the air on this March afternoon, and a breeze that says “it’ll be ok.” I’m not too sure I should listen to the voices on the wind anymore, though. They always tell you the opposite of the thing you’re not entirely sure you don’t want.Continue reading “Palimpsest”
Ceramic Seat
3/7/20 Does writing a day into memory lessen its significance on my life if I do it while taking a shit? Or is it lifted to a new, holistic experience? My body is processing. I am living, experiencing, and following through on years of evolutionary planning. When I sit on a porcelain throne and remindContinue reading “Ceramic Seat”
Celestial String
3/6/20 Marie might be a little upset with me. I’ll be honest—I’m actually writing this the morning after the 6th as I was tired as a dog last night. Hence, the frustration of my wife. I got home around 5:30pm dog tired. Amelia was down for a nap, and Marie was picking up. We satContinue reading “Celestial String”
Slug
3/5/20 Soft sickness—like a wilting flower still soaking up the sun—drips off of my body. My throat aches more than it has before so I now talk with a booming baritone. Any cough pinches at my vocal cords and reminds me I am (as of right now) limited. I have boundaries. My abilities are lockedContinue reading “Slug”
Slide Off
3/4/20 Staying home sick as an adult is like eating an apple: it can be nice, but for the most part you think of it as a chore. First of all there’s the responsibility of taking care of yourself: the hydration, the nutrition, the fighting off antibodies left and right like a lone warrior fightingContinue reading “Slide Off”
Fishing Line
3/3/20 Tonight is actually the first night that I am just typing up my diary post instead of writing it, then typing it, then carving it into stone, then remembering it verbatim, then chanting it to myself as I list away into an incandescent plane of dreams and terrors. It’s a little odd. There’s somethingContinue reading “Fishing Line”
Ed Boy 