Good vibrations: 10 November 2011
Good vibrations: black-tipped nails, sweatshirts over dresses, almost finishing a book and starting another, secret uninhabited parts of London that aren’t touristy, cloudy gray mornings with coffee and thick socks and braided hair and alone, wearing the same clothes over…
That weird pleasure: 03 de agosto de 2015
What’s with that weird pleasure one finds in doing something she knows she shouldn’t do? Like smoking cigarettes or eating a fuck-ton of carbs? Yesterday was Sunday and everyone and her fucking grandmother and dog and 20 kids came to…
A list of things I love about you: 13 de julio de 2015
Let me tell you before I forget that I love you. I love to be around you. I love your strong embrace and your torpeza and your giant, bear-like mannerisms. I love you in the way I love Soda Stereo…
Armando la carpa, desarmando la carpa: 16 de marzo de 2015
Sandy Birkenstocks, tea in a thermos, children’s books en español, selling burbujeros to the tourists in the weekend market and on the beach, armando la carpa, desarmando la carpa, esperando en el sol, everything dirty and filled with salt and…
Dim lights and jazz music: 01 de abril de 2015
Dim lights and jazz music. Today I wanted to be a hippie, a reporter, Buddha; a person with perfect calm confidence and no doubt. You are a person of talent. You, you have got something special. I feel pressured to…
Fernet and cola under the stars: 04 de enero de 2015
The start of my new year was kind of una mierda. New Year’s Eve we had the hostel to ourselves: Kate, who I played soccer with in college, chiquita, blonde hair, blue eyes, and the most beautiful clear skin, as…
Ideas unfolding like morphing lotuses: 28 de noviembre de 2013
Heavy fog reminds me of the ocean, open space spread like butter into infinity, my eternal introspective fire crackling and sparking, ideas unfolding like morphing lotuses, pulsing with the salted waves and provoking that same excitement, the anticipation of future…
The sound of birds: 03, 12 de julio de 2015
☯️03 de julio de 2015 I’ve been wanting to listen to silence for so long now. Its intricate, infinite depth is filled with everything. There is the sound of birds near — a loud, cackling mess of twigs in the…
Fire: 22 de julio de 2015
Fire licks, slurps, and crackles happily, depending on the type of wood. I want a bonfire to swallow my night whole, stars and moon and wine and words. I think of Sam McGee. I think of his mystery bestowed upon…