touching the center • hands off blogging • iowa city two thousand and nine • not a dam thing

Four strands of thought, 1. overwhelmation, 2. blog as defense against it, 3. where I'm at seems to be the same as where you've been, and 4. reference to natural disaster in brief word play, thus tying us together, and me to here.

And what unites us is unwavering love.

"You never know what to expect" never meant anything to me but small talk. Small talk is skin dust in window light, sitting on the carpet at age two.

Miraculous to say the least and most at once.

Tuesday in the Dumps

Once, on the face of this planet, the world sang the song of itself, while the poets hid their thoughts in blogs and prayed for an overcast morning.

Would you say you're an absurdist?

No. And I regret having written those last words. I believe in logic and pattern recognition and passing trucks, things like that.

Why doesn't any of your writing make sense?

It was designed to specifically not make sense, that's it's logic. It aims to tap the materiality of words especially when I use words like materiality in regards to the substance of words.

These humans are stocking up on stories while I'm lingering on ennui.