A few short things that I've come to like:

I do not find peace, and I do not want to make war,
And I fear and I hope, and I burn and I am of ice,
And I fly above the sky and I lie on the ground,
And I grasp nothing and I embrace the whole world.

Someone has me in prison who neither sets me free nor locks me in,
Neither keeps me for himself nor undoes the bonds,
And Love does not kill me and does not unchain me,
He neither wants me alive nor draws from the tangle.

I see without eyes, and I cry without a tongue,
And I long to die and I ask for help,
And I hate myself and love another.

I feed on pain, weeping I laugh,
Death and life displease me equally.
I am in this state, Lady, because of you.

-Petrarch; from Rime Sparse

"It is not too much to say that whoever wishes to become a truly moral human being (and let us not ask whether or not this is possible; I think we must believe that it is possible) must first divorce himself from all the prohibitions, crimes, and hypocricies of the Christian church. If the concept of God has any validity or any use, it can only be to make us larger, freer, and more loving. If God cannot do this, then it is time we got rid of Him.

-James Baldwin, from The Fire Next Time

And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.

-Carl Sandburg, from "Chicago"


No matter what I'm reading, usually, it's good to be reading again.

Last night, in a fit of boredom and self-pity and sorrow, Amanda and I decided that, instead of talking about how lonely we are and how little we get out, that we should go somewhere and get drunk. We went to the Whip, an expensive yet delicious bar on Main and Broadway. Two whiskey sours and five beers between the three of us, with nothing but a slice of pizza per stomach, was enough to knock us out of the funk we were in, and it ended up being a good evening, in a sad sort of way. Of course, I left my credit card at the bar and had to come back and get it today, and I have a tiny bruise on my head from when, at 5 AM after getting some water, somewhat concussed myself and ended up passed out on a floor that I didn't even know was my own. Whoda thunk. I missed having blackouts, it brought out the best in me. Really. All those times of waking up in a pool of my own nose-blood, stars dancing in front of me, wondering if I was, perhaps, blind, or that my spine had given way and that's why I felt no pain. Searching the room with my hands, dragging my blankets to the floor with me because that was the most comfortable place I could possibly be, waking up in the morning in a tangle of sheets and drool to discover that during my time of no remembering, I had either placed or answered several phone calls from numbers I hadn't recognized, and also had the time to sketch a pretty accurate looking bird in charcoal that had since been spread all over my face, wondering how I had gotten into my room, because I was pretty sure that I was still in England, then exclaiming out loud "I didn't throw up at all!" before spilling water all over my front as the hand that held the water glass had fallen asleep due to me sleeping on the floor.

I've become better and better at handling hangovers. If they're hard alcohol, well, not so much; but still, I'm not knocked out or sick for a whole day. I wake up with a headache, put on my sunglasses if it's too bright and take a few Advil, and by the afternoon I'm right as rain, with the occasional ringing in the ears.

Now I know I have work to do, but I'd much rather write. Write what? No clue. I'll get back to you on that one.