O: Day Two II

-
Basketball. USA against France. Was Ronny Turiaf really their tallest French player? France needed more big men.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Man bites dog

-
Trying to make sense of slowly kicking things into gear. Making it make do is harder than it sounds. Feels like a carousel of wanting to go all in and making a mess of it and starting all the way back to zero; tail bites snake, man bites dog. It seems as if this purpose has no purpose tangentially, but it is slowly working its way back up, I do believe. Only in the chaos of it all does one permit itself the meaning of its purpose, to pick it up amongst the debris while all else is suffering intraordinarily, as it should be. No matter what the chaos brings, even the brittle mortality herein that is slowly withering.
Read more

Seed is strong

-
If the intention too close to the bone, I would have already done it. Amongst so many attempts, the results always seem to default to close but no cigars. This whole effort is fatiguing, if not intoxicating in equal measures. Tired of all the resistances and the rejections and the mindgames of it all. Otherwise it would have simply been a dire misunderstanding, which is an all too common motif when it comes to me, and apparently shared amongst so many others if I were to be completely blunt. Some of the seedlings have sprouted, even in such short amount of time.
Read more

Preparar

-
People always told me to be wary of how you act, My mother always made it a point to respect women. This was at the nadir of her lifetime. She reiterated things over and over like a broken record, especially after what happened with Mioseon, and the same when Miriam left. The final month where we had the short opportunities to actually dig into each other's minds, that was all she ever preached, as if I was never good at all. But there is some truth to it, otherwise those things would have worked out much differently than it did. She never knew about certain things of my life, but deep inside she felt the knots in my ropes, hard as I try to disguise it. She is of my blood after all. I miss her. I try not to miss her. I try not to think of her at all. Because I do not deserve to. I was complicit. It will live on inside me for the rest of my life, and I will live with that fact with no one else to hopefully know the full extent of this sordid affair. I do not deserve anyone's sym
Read more