Tuesday, September 22



the sands of
the sands of
the sands of
the sands of
and the cities
slabs built on sinking shifting
built out of
built up out of
people praying on top of
the bodies of
the bodies of
the bodies of
piled up mentioning the weather to each other
in bars, small sweaty
the one on top looks at the stars
the one beneath her says hello
and a head opens, searchlights and lasers
fly out into

Wednesday, September 2

Brave men run in my family.

So I says to my boss, in Florida, I'm out of here. It isn't working. Sorry. And I go home.

Home is comfortable. Lot of food in the fridge. Parents are very nice, very generous. Got to get out, though, because I feel like I'll devolve into something worse.

So I says to her, I says, I'm going to LA. To stay with my friend Ben. To maybe go to Thailand when he goes, in October. She says, OK, let us know what's up. So I say, bye, Mom!

So I go and live in LA. I apply for jobs. I go to Vegas. I take pictures of an MMA fight. I see some art. I come into contact with old friends who have moved out here too, and find that some of them are tied to work, and some are happy, and some are sad. And I start to wake up later. And go to the gym every day. And who knows what's up? Not me.

Still looking for a job! (Re-read the title of the blog, but with a cynical approach.)