You can’t kill a Honda, unless you’re an 18-Wheeler.
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Mornings make me nervous. I wish that they didn’t. But they do. I wake up with such issue with the Day, every single day. It doesn’t matter if I’ve had three hours of sleep or a hundred. And I don’t settle down until after 2:00, usually…on bad days 4:00. I think it’s because I’ve lost my mornings. That's what it feels like. I mean, I wake up knowing I have a drive ahead of me just to get to my office, a drive I’m beginning to hate with the heated passion of a thousand burning suns, and it’s caused me to reevaluate what I do...
The Mercy Blog 2: Mean Man and Me
I noticed without much fanfare or to-do, this morning, that our neighbor had a rental truck slap up against his front door. Coming down the road, from class, I saw the bed, the table, and various other accoutrement loaded inside. I took this to mean he was moving. I was...I must say...ok with that. He wasn't the easiest man to like. An attempt had been made, earlier in the year, to befriend him, mainly because he had the most adorable roommate: a Bassest hound. And one afternoon, I was in the backyard with Max, the dog I live with. He's a large white German Shepherd,...
The Mercy Blog: The Split Man Speaks
There's always some ledge I seem to be standing on. Some ledge of extreme human possibility or capacity.
At times, it’s a wonderful place to stand, when I’m thoroughly engrossed in a play, or a poem, and I’m truly making that effort to connect to the writing, to the theme, to the universality of it, and ultimately, myself, right?, but there are other times, when all it does is remind me of how terrified I am of heights: literal and those of accomplishment, or rather, the fear...
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