At this very moment

Another 11:02 PM on a Sunday. Weather: heavy rain. Mood: liminal. Yep, all the signs of another attack by the vicious "Scouring the Internet for the Perfect Haircut, a Haircut with all the Elements of a Good Haircut but None of Them in Excess," as the locals call the bastard. I leaned back in my desk chair to pluck a dying cigarette from the ash tray.

Anecdote

"Peppermint tea," she calls out
with casual abandon
and going to claim it I wonder
if maybe this drink has,
without my consent,
come to embody all of me.

I doubt it, I know,
I'm forcing the thought
from primordial emotion.
Still I just can't shake the feeling.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Watching "Yojimbo"

I really have no attention span anymore.

"Idiot! Gamblers make peace to get ready for a bigger fight."

The coffin-maker's face is closed. A closed box. The faces in this movie!

Other stuff I really like about Yojimbo:

1. The whole "like his name, he is [noun or quality x]; but underneath, he is really [something you might not expect from noun or quality x]" formulation.

2. The sliding panels in the old man's restaurant and what they allow to be seen vs. keep hidden.

3. The rain.

"Ghosts? They make me feel just great!"

Today: a series of quotidian fiascos

I was trying to think of how best to sum up the day so far, and the title of this post is what I came up with.

Imagined conversations

Barista: Would you like espresso in your coffee?

Me: UH, would you like a KISS. On the MOUTH. By which I mean I WOULD. Um. I'm very sorry.
~scuttles away~

Based. On true. Events.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

the new year, stranglers, etc.

Since the Kensington Strangler started exhibiting his knack for murdering young girls a few weeks ago, my mother has consistently reminded me to watch out for him. As if leaving the apartment to commune with other humans wasn’t difficult enough, now I fight a vague but nagging awareness that the ghoulish character and I are like two points on a map of Philadelphia, fluctuating in relative distance but always fairly close to one another.

The hesitation I feel about going out alone--even to meet up with people--is best categorized as inertia. Generally I’m the type that enjoys staying in. But it’s a bit tough even when I want to venture outside.

I’m writing this on a train, en route to a dinner with two friends. It took way more coaxing than it should’ve to get out the door.
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The above is from a few nights ago. I had to quit writing because the train approached my stop, and the moment to finish the thought is now passed. But I was going to say something about my unexpected exhilaration at traveling alone through the guts of this city and how I'm going to live my life more. Together with the recent move and a chance to relax at last, everything added up to optimism. I felt anchored in myself and this place.

And now it's New Year's Eve, the cliche juncture to make claims like this, but. I think it's gonna be a good year.

If you're reading this: happy new year, y'all! Raise your glasses (and/or the corners of your lips) to new beginnings. Let's make it good.

Love,
J