The Song

It's a funny thing about having Artist's Disease
- my momentary obsessions view like a movie that quickly fades to black.
The credits roll and I don't recognize any of the names.
The film score is familiar,
I know every crescendo and resolution,
but it's as if I'd heard it before in a dream or with different ears.
The melody becomes more important than the message,
which simply doesn't make sense any more.
I can blame it on that song.

Queen Can Sing

You look at Queen Latifah and you don't expect for her to sing as well as she does.

Beauty comes from the least expected sources sometimes. My new roommate, Ouida, is a BRILLIANT artist. She told me about a contest she entered in high school: the objective was to draw the most beautiful thing imaginable. Of course there were butterflies and birds and blablabla. Ouida decided to draw a life-sized warthog. A warthog. It was ugly but so well done she won. The most authentic was judged to be the most beautiful.

I don't know.

I'm definitely not comparing Queen Latifah to a warthog.

Life is too short to go to bed thinking you chose the wrong ice cream flavor.

Dang it.

Post Just to Post

I have no reason to write.
I could sit here all night.
Valentine's Day?
I have nothing to say.
No profound observation,
Just making conversation.


Did a game this morning, got a good run in. I get to see my daddy tomorrow. It's raining outside. I just cooked dinner for my roommates, they were complimentary as always.

Life in general is happening. Things are much more calm than they've been in the past.

And I'm glad.

When Ambien and Peanut Butter Collide...

You get up and run three miles in the freezing cold.