Back when I got high I sometimes wondered what it would be like to not get high when I was getting high. Like could the indescribable quality of this world be perceived otherwise? I never thought it could be and… Read More ›
prose
Morning’s mantra, April
Springtime is one of the most beautiful times where we live. It’s a bath of sensory delights, especially in early morning. The distant woodpecker rattle, the sweet birdsong as it builds. Some crows and repetitive sounds all layered together. I… Read More ›
My heart aches for these days
In the morning on the warmest day it’s still cool but you can feel the temperature start to change. I get to the park earlier than normal and the sky is the color of abalone shell, turquoise mixed with pink…. Read More ›
Season’s surplus
There is more life than I can use, so I squander it on fruitless things like video games or bad books or going to bed early. The funny way life inches forward mostly unseen. The spring blooms that would bring… Read More ›
Birth, rebirth
That janky toilet seat always leaned left, the toilet paper holder too. In the early morning the body signaled what it would feel like later in life. Early morning or late night it was hard to tell which was which,… Read More ›
First Saturday in Washington
No moon at 3 AM but twinkly stars and lawns covered in white, the failing charge of the solar-powered footpath lights made a weak ghostly hue. Had to look up “what to do about itchy scalp” and wondered, could it… Read More ›
The big eraser
23 Jan 25 After days of it the fog finally broke and everything looked crystalline or coated in confectioners’ sugar, flocked. Before bed I read Anne Lamott’s memoir, the scene of her with her dad that day at the beach… Read More ›
The case for spending your time vs. taking it
I went back up the Himmelsleiter but took a different route. It was my first time here in January. After a moody walk in the Jack the Ripper fog the night before I was ready for a walk in the… Read More ›
The days run away like wild horses over the hills
15 Jan 25 Another sleepless trap, tonight in my mom’s 15th-century house, below freezing outdoors and not much different in. She wasn’t joking about how cold it gets. There’s no heat to speak of that makes it to the bathrooms… Read More ›
LH 491 to Frankfurt
14 Jan 25 Of course it is impossible to fall asleep on a plane like this. My body, my life’s longest friend, is my greatest foe. Bent in on myself, folded askew, I feel everything. The ankle tendon, the lower… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 