1. Right now—more or less anyway—you are trying to get something done. You’re only reading this listicle because you think it’ll be a quick distraction from whatever it is you’re really trying to get done. It’s okay, I don’t mind. That’s what I’m doing right now, too— I’m writing a listicle as a way of
Category: Who Are We?
“In a certain light, wouldn’t nuclear war be exciting?” he said. There I was, on what would turn out to be the middle of a long string of Scruff dates that would lead nowhere but a weekday drinking habit. He was in the Navy, maybe an officer if I remember correctly (which, I probably don’t).
I’m donating my body to science… …but not the anatomical medicine sciences. Instead, I’ve decided to donate my body to the psychological sciences. I’ll not wait for death to be a service to mankind; I’ll start now, while the blood is fresh and synapses are still firing. The experiment? I’ll engage in the art of
Hello October… …summer is officially over, goodbye beautiful boys, goodbye dreams of the beach, goodbye my constant indecision over whether I should try to get a tan or try to avoid skin cancer, goodbye dreams of looking like a Ken Doll by Halloween. Hello autumn acceptance. Hello long walks with the dogs. Hello travel. Hello,
Travelling by train… …still feels glamourous to me. As if every bump, every pitch and roll, every sway were a reminder that I am a Very Important Person… I am a Traveller.* I cannot wait for the day when we all go by trains and only trains. Well, trains and foot-power. And jet pack. Definitely