22 Feb 2011

February 23, 2011

I’m writing this from my car in the UTD parking lot. I’m 45 minutes early for class. I just bought a salad that I don’t want and ate a large order of fries that I probably shouldn’t’ve. I’m listening to James Blake and I have no idea what he’s saying.

This blog gets about 20 views a day. I look at that stuff now partly because I can’t help it and partly because I think I was wrong earlier when I said it didn’t matter. It does matter. I’m not sure any of this stuff has intrinsic value — writing, art, etc. It’s like the clay that needs God to breathe on it. I’m not sure that metaphor holds up. Anyways. I appreciate you reading this. There are plenty of better things out there. Books mainly.

I’ve been going to the farmer’s market by my apartment. I walk there and buy peanuts and then go sit by the pond and watch the people walk their dogs. Sometimes I think about throwing the shells on the ground, but I don’t. I put them back in the bag so that they get all mixed in with the uneaten peanuts until I get frustrated.

The farmer’s market makes me happy, though. I walk around twice before grabbing the bag of peanuts from the back shelf.

I heard a guy at Starbucks this morning say that he’ll never buy a Nissan again. Costing him $100 to change a headlight. He’s owned three Nissan’s but this is too much; he’s done.

It’s raining now, just barely. Little droplets on my windshield lit up like constellations. Now the sky’s black. Now the parking lot lights look like UFOs. Now the couple walks in front of my car holding hands.

If someone doesn’t think they have trust issues, they’re probably lying to themselves. I’ve been thinking about love as the decision to do the tragedy together.

These are supposed to be quick, but this is taking me forever. That salad’s got to be pretty gross by now. It’s 6:43.


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