the sun always shines on my sadness. I can walk with a skip in my step but still, the coming of spring always makes me anxious.
trying to figure out how I can weave the song “Hallelujah” and its transformative journey into my research paper on Delilah from the Book of Judges as I’m currently reading Alan Light’s latest book on the former
trying to write the prose version of this absurdist film idea born from my escapades and the Dalyce/John rapport
dreaming about starting a production company, then remembering I need good material first
what film will I shoot over spring break? the festival is approaching and I’m obligated to submit.
fortune cookies? urban legends come true
“sometimes, I wish you were a guy”
sometimes, I wish I were a fly
except not really
that was terrible
public/private memory– I wrote a piece on this a few weeks ago and submitted it to something, before even understanding the topic
the most menial example: mini, mini
it’s sunny. i’m hungry. it’s hot. i’m happy. Hiroshima, Mon Amour. my anxiety. we’re talking memory. i’m troubled. we talk 9/11. apple– my memory. we speak public/private. carrot– my lack of. we discuss media and i am perplexed. we talk about memories manufactured. i am very hungry. discerning degrees of proximity. this all will happen again.