6.25.2009

More Music On The Way

Consistent with most fears, I think the male to female to male to female revue has taken its toll on our feet. If I were to film a landscape of desire, I feel it would take on a casual ambiance. Those sauntering towards the coffee. Some nibbling on turkey sandwiches.

I care not for the prongs of the boulevards, but rather the symmetry of a room. No, I take that back, I care more for the openness of dirt. That is to say, I care not to get dirty but to feel/smell the dirt.

Perhaps at one time or another there was more openness to my character, but that is a farce now—having stepped on my share of ants. More accurately, I believe that anyone's true grit is not in how many experiences you can draw upon, but more so how many times you can remember the eggs that you ate for breakfast. The warm egg fresh from the boiling pot. The greasy eggs dripping with butter and singed from the pan. These are the things I care to remember more than I do the failures and trappings of day to day planning.

Running four miles a day rules.