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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| Ah...online blogging. How I used to love thee. By my personal count, this is my third xanga site, and my sixth blog. Outside of facebook, this is the only one still open.
In the same way that talking often reminds me that I'm sick of hearing myself talk, blogging often reminds me how tired it is to hear myself think in a very visible manner. That and the feeling that I was putting a 2 dimensional version of myself on display that could never 'not' be misleading, no matter how hard I might try to be occasionally balanced about myself.
Anyway, this is all to say, I'm likely staying away from the online world the next year (one of many new year's resolutions). I've said that I'm going offline or unplugging for the past few years rather unsuccessfully, but by golly, I'm gonna do it this year if it's going to kill me. So if you need to reach me (all 2 of you who might actually check my updates from time to time), you can write me via email or postal mail.
The email address I'll be checking is harus47@gmail.com.
My postal address is as follows:
Harry Russ
2302 E 16th St
Ste B
Austin, TX 78702
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| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gx-NLPH8JeM
You're welcome. | | |
| "Cursed eyes are never closing
Cursed arms are never closing
Cursed children never rising
Cursed me never despising"
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Sometimes you push past personal experience into the idea behind that experience. But I'm not sure if the correct word is push or whether the motion I'm getting at is that of falling backwards or else the ground giving out from under you. Either way, there is clarity. Wadatay Sadatay.
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| from "Wig Master"
lonliness isn't being alone, it's when someone loves
you and you don't have it in you to love them back
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a dream. i'm sitting down at a table to eat with my grandfather. his image flickers as if a candle's being held in front of him. But his image fades, no longer at the table. Sitting in his stead, a man whose face is not quite a face but not quite a mask concealing a face. His mouth is real and his teeth gleam as he greets me. He wears a bowler hat and insists I take a seat with that smile that mocks my grandfather's. There is salad in front of me and I look up to see him waiting on me to take a bite. I wake up in a sweat
****
http://youtube.com/watch?v=7875kl0lSYg | | |
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