drunk.
alone.
again.
clicking the "remember me" box on the sign in screen seems more like a plea than an option.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
imagination, i feel, is one of the things humanity has taken for granted.
without it, there would be no dreams, no hope, no drive to stay at work because we may get promoted.
without imagination we would have no patience.
i mean by what other means would i be able to win the lottery and move to louisville, open up a small video rentail place, which would also be a photography exhibit, in which i display and sell only-prints of my and other locals' works. get a studio apartment and have parties every weekend, in which people would have a lounge and a few cool arcade games to hang out by, plenty of alcohol, a jukebox, a small dance floor, and a movie room?
in what other way can i have the starring role in a real life movie-like scene in which two people who are desperately in love reunite for the first time in way too long, and to them words are nothing but sounds that express not enough, and so they tell eachother more than they know by smiling and standing there in silence for minutes that pretend to be h
ours?
how else can i sit at my desk, with greying hair and an unkept beard, smoking a pipe, translating a very succesfull european book that is about to make its debut in america; and my wife, who(although the years have given her wrinkles on her face and taken away the pigment from her hair), by her very presence, reminds me that i am the luckiest man alive, brings me a cup of tea. and while she places it down in front of me on my desk, she puts her other arm around me and kisses my head. then she sits next no me, in a rocking chair, knitting, or smoking, or reading, or pleasantly playing an instrument. and we are both happy to just be able to sit by eachother, and we smile. and we are happy, because we know with every inch of our hearts that we have found true love. and even though we live in a house made of wood, surrounded by trees and nature, we would want nothing else.
i am very grateful for imagination.
without it, there would be no dreams, no hope, no drive to stay at work because we may get promoted.
without imagination we would have no patience.
i mean by what other means would i be able to win the lottery and move to louisville, open up a small video rentail place, which would also be a photography exhibit, in which i display and sell only-prints of my and other locals' works. get a studio apartment and have parties every weekend, in which people would have a lounge and a few cool arcade games to hang out by, plenty of alcohol, a jukebox, a small dance floor, and a movie room?
in what other way can i have the starring role in a real life movie-like scene in which two people who are desperately in love reunite for the first time in way too long, and to them words are nothing but sounds that express not enough, and so they tell eachother more than they know by smiling and standing there in silence for minutes that pretend to be h
ours?how else can i sit at my desk, with greying hair and an unkept beard, smoking a pipe, translating a very succesfull european book that is about to make its debut in america; and my wife, who(although the years have given her wrinkles on her face and taken away the pigment from her hair), by her very presence, reminds me that i am the luckiest man alive, brings me a cup of tea. and while she places it down in front of me on my desk, she puts her other arm around me and kisses my head. then she sits next no me, in a rocking chair, knitting, or smoking, or reading, or pleasantly playing an instrument. and we are both happy to just be able to sit by eachother, and we smile. and we are happy, because we know with every inch of our hearts that we have found true love. and even though we live in a house made of wood, surrounded by trees and nature, we would want nothing else.
i am very grateful for imagination.
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