The hardest thing about starting your new blog is filling out the About page. The About page is your prompt to explain why the reader is here, on your site. I had to make it up when I began because… Read More ›
social media
No present like the time
Ginger is on top of a stuffed rabbit with a squeaker, looks like she’s sodomizing it. The rabbit has a cartoon eye, looks nonplussed. Ginger thrashes it to break the neck, sniffs its underside, walks off distracted, comes back. I… Read More ›
Dream about a boy who turned to stone: online loneliness
We go to our corners, the family. There’s the TV and the kitchen for the genders to split, devices for the teenagers to keep them docile, interested, present. Life spins in a prism of thoughts and distractions, frames. Most you… Read More ›
When a blogger dies, does anyone notice?
There are many parts of my life I can’t remember and there are many reasons for that. I’d like to think of my brain as a well-organized refrigerator: I can reach in there with my eyes closed, and know where… Read More ›
Leave this page
Enter Title Here. Confirm Navigation. My computer’s in my pocket, with me in the toilet, between my legs when I’m driving, on my lap now. It’s a pet that doesn’t need water or parasite treatments, a pet that talks back… Read More ›
What’s true
Sometimes, people will forgive what’s true. Even if it’s not good, not right, it’s true. That’s what comes in to play when you hear music that’s real, it sings of its own accord. It hovers above the Plane of Attachment,… Read More ›
American Waste Story
The weekend was full of plans and I thought about them at the bar, while the Girl Scouts met back at our house. I timed it so I’d get home just as they were leaving and as I pulled into… Read More ›
More and More, The Remote
I look at the painting but don’t recognize it, don’t remember where it came from, some faraway place, an alpine lake in blues, indigo, watercolor. I bathe myself in the sea salts of home. The smell of the pines outside… Read More ›
The earnestness of the 70s
Time Passages, Al Stewart. I grew up in the 70s, the 80s…the photos are embarrassing. Equally so for the 60s, I’m guessing. Songs like Time Passages, well: it’s good, it’s earnest, and yet it has a bit of cheese to… Read More ›
Disconnect me
It was just me and Dawn then, driving out to eastern Washington to a cabin north of Spokane, the one-year anniversary of 9-11. It seemed a peaceful, solemn place to observe it: removed from people, surrounded by overgrown grass fields,… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 