The Farmhouse is Burning

So put the cassette in the tape deck and let that fever play

I know I’m supposed to be too cool for this song, but I’m writing this on the 27th (and then putting it in my queue to be published June 3rd) and after this weekend I’m in a ‘just don’t give a fuck’ kind of attitude. So take it. 

When I search for The Illusionist, what I don’t want is mediocre Edward Norton movies. Mother of Pearl.

When someone calls it: Frisco…

(Source: penandink)

It’s been a long day

My knees are bruised from spending the afternoon and evening crawling out the window for cigarette breaks. My eyes hurt from staring at a computer screen and my disorganized article is starting to sound like an essay on immigration instead of a news article. And it’s time I called it quits, but I’ve never been good and knowing when to do that, and it’s not like I can leave until I’ve reached character count anyways.

Writing

I am tempted to go back to CCSF and just take a bunch of creative writing classes again. Half because I always learn how to better my own writing and half because it’s hard to find circles of writers to read and critique and get news ideas from. Ya know? 

But maybe I’m just not looking hard enough.

When I walk home from the pub at 2pm

thetimeistudiedabroad:

Not that his has ever happened before

…or anything.

…uh

Italy, I cannot wait to visit you for fun.

Italy, I cannot wait to visit you for fun.