Thursday, March 31, 2016

The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone.

Long day. Good day. Good work. My left eye hurts. My right eye twitches. Writing texts. Sending emails. Writing discussion questions. Contacting sites. Interviewing actor-teachers. Scribbling ideas. Busy, busy.

Distance: 3 miles
Route: Boulevard Loop

After work, at a bar, an unfamiliar bar, bit too high tone (couldn't find a seat at Parnell's, the place was packed ... I believe their walls are closing in) attempting to cogitate a brief description of a play, my play, which is work to be developed, as part of a process, which may or may not ever result in production, somewhere, down the line.

Christ, what a joint. Crushed between two most self-congratulatory generations in the history of mankind. The hair pieces. The hairy faces. Keep your head down and write. You may look pretentious, but at least no one will speak to you.

Temperature: 64°
Climate: impending storm (?)
Weight: 164 lbs. (+1.5)
Mood: it's good

Beautiful night. Fast run. Night time delirium, welcome back.

Twenty-one runs in the month of March, almost ties last year's record.

1996 Playlist
Waters of March - Marisa Monte & David Byrne
Unmarked Helicopters - Soul Coughing
One Note Samba/Surfboard - Stereolab & Herbie Mann
Birth-Day (Love Made Real) - Suzanne Vega
Cinnabar - Tipsy

Oh, the 1990s. How I miss you so, you schizophrenic wonder.

New Pollution - Beck Hansen

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