Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The trick is, go for the mountain. Don't always go for the big red button. I know it's shiny, so tempting. Begging to be pressed. You'll end up with a mushroom cloud and have to deal with a mess. You can't unpress the button, or pack the annilation back into the bomb. You can't unsay unkind words.
All this means: try not to overreact to everything. I'm talking to myself. That's right, you doing the typing. Sure, maybe the molehill is covered with ants and a few piles of dog doo, but you'll live.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Maybe it's change that I didn't choose that I object to. Even after a lifetime of it, I can't quite abide it. But I will enjoy the satisfying crunch of a maple leaf under my shoe, or the wet granola smell of the sidewalk after a sudden rain. I will enjoy soup steam in my face from a new yellow bowl. More lap time from the cats. Those small offerings I can accept.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
I suppose BFR only publishes stuff from students anyway. I dunno. Bah.
T'anks fer nuthin'.
Friday, September 9, 2011
The acoustics between the two buildings in the plaza made for a natural surround-sound. F Market trolleys and the cackling teenagers nearby couldn't take away from the soothing, melting, want-to-sleep feeling I had (ok, I did do a few half- and full-turns to the cacklers which of course did nothing -- "The fellas are trying to entertain us. Piss off!") I only thought that, don't worry. Damn my hypervigilance.