For as long as I can remember writing I have always kept
some sort of journal or diary. In elementary school I had a Lion King
journal with a heart shaped lock; now I write in much more austere black and
white composition notebooks, anything that can be procured cheaply or re-purposed.
I journeyed from Wichita, Kansas and back to Seattle in a
whirlwind wedding weekend. In the hours
lingering between layovers, I found myself writing and reading passages I wrote
the last ten months. Here are some
thoughts over the course of an-almost-year.
Omnis cellula e cellula.
All cells come from cells.
Life begets life.
(Non)Life
Of teacher, English
no more brain
room no room--
nothing more stop.
stop feeling -- feeling?
NO time; NO words
NO language; NO first
name
two too to many papers
white winged birds
shit
on your desk
try to clean it up-
sigh:
eleven hour days…
RUSH TO FOURTH PERIOD!
debate the industrial revolution & wage
labor
It’s always ironic.
