Pastless, Panic, Paternity

Blogger has somehow lost my last two posts. Whatever.

I was tramping a little bit the last two weeks. Traveled to Houston/Austin and met a friend and enjoyed myself much more than I deserve. Managed to find someplace I think I could live happily. Went to Moab to meet up with some kids I haven't seen in far too long. And laughed harder and more honestly than I have in months. Now I'm home and school's over and it's already too hot to go outside. Spent the day in my basement, and in my garage, trying to write but tapping only a trickle.

My recent dreams have been of seeing myself in the mirror with reckless wispy hair falling out of a clammy skull. And teeth mostly missing save charcoal-colored stalactites protruding from beet-red gums that've peeled away to show chaotic tendons and lamprey-mouth decay. Why is this?

If I had a child I'd assign physical challenges like some kind of Tyler Durden with a den and a library. And he'd come into the house some day after his mission climbing trees out in the suburban half-forest with his broken wrist hanging. And in the car ride to the hospital I'd tell him what Nietzsche had to say about hardship.