Greetings! I am aboard the hell o'clock train, otherwise known as the regional Amtrak; it is my intention for the day to see how much I can sleep in the quiet car. Right now there are some very beautiful streamers and shells of cloud in the dawn-faded blue of the sky, a kind of hand-gilding light on the passing verticals of bricks and concrete. Everything is so much greener than even the last time I took this line: the trees are bursting out like summer, not just blossoming. It is not fair of me to think that the man who just took a seat diagonal of me looks like he should be walking across a stage in that grey business suit and glasses, a briefcase in one hand and a bright red umbrella in the other. Further bulletins as consciousness warrants.
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Active Entries
- 1: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 2: My dream house is a negative space of rock
- 3: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
- 4: No, I'll build a cute flower border
- 5: If you don't want the death of the party after I'm gone, sing one for me
- 6: Life, a series of memorials and signals
- 7: Once you've gone, remains the question, baby
- 8: Does everybody know he's a ghost?
- 9: Broken like the earth or a name for a first love or a lesson in shame
- 10: I want to show you all the versions of myself
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