5 days ago, the world ended 5 days from now, the year will 2 days ago, Lucy left 2 days from now, I’ll get over it Yesterday was a Roman holiday Tomorrow, I have to go back to work Today, I took the day off anyway To celebrate my survival. 20 years from now, memory will shroud these days. So 20 minutes ago, I lit up a new day to remember December 26, 2012.

I start up the computer to see the white and blue I never liked the blue so what do I do? I google far and long to right the blue that's wrongI fiddle with the screenuntil the red is green Now the whites are revolting, the blacks are amusing but oh noes what do I do? pink is the new blue Petrified by the situation of mistaken sexual orientation So I switch off the screen and partake of caffeine But I still don't like the...

I like this light that streams in through my  window and fills my heart  I don’t know what time of the day it is,  or where I am.  I can’t seem to attribute this light to any  particular time or place.  Nor can I identify or locate its childlike rays. This is what they must’ve had in mind  When they said ‘mellow’  and a lot of other things they didn’t say,  Because they had no names. Neither is the sun glowering at me  No...

Well, that IS what she said. Not that I had a reason to trust her opinion. How do you trust opinions anyway? Or movie reviews? You just make up your mind, and find an excuse.So "she said" was my excuse for reading this. Or at least for planning to read it. The author was eminent. Lots of awards. A literary giant in a language I couldn't read. So I was going to read a translation. Because she said so. I turned it around in...

"Why don't you write a story?" they asked."What is a story?"Is it falsehoods and daydreams?Is it a fictionalized veneer over my life?Is it a message, a moral, a word of caution or encouragement?Is it to entertain, or to stir?What purpose does a story serve?"But you can write.""True. I can. I just can't imagine anymore."