I think I’ve let my existential angst get away from me. I mean, I’ve known for a while now that this whole angst thing, this thing that made me appear deep and complex— a certain dark sexiness, a radiant weltschmerz (or whatever)— that made it possible to wear plain black t-shirts for weeks at a
It’s been a year now since my dad passed away. His health had been bad for years (about fifteen by my reckoning), so it’s not like we didn’t know it was coming, but still, dealing with the death of a parent is the absolute worst. Since June of that summer, his condition had gotten bad. Like,
Now boarding… I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it many times again, but modern airtravel is so weird. (if you’re just here for the paradox, skip five paragraphs down…) I arrived two hours early for my 7pm takeoff; I didn’t want to be rushed and I miscalculated rush hour traffic. Listening to
Preface. Orko’s older brothers would never let him play ‘cauldron’ with them. “He’s too small, too puny,” they would say. I love it when a plan comes together. I’ve got a theme for today’s blog that ties-in with the “Trapped In Super Mario World” series on the webcomic (the novel, being a novel, has it’s
Part One: Temps Perdu “À la recherche du temps perdu”… there really isn’t a great translation for it in English. “In search of lost time” and “remembrance of things past” are the most common, but perdu is so much more subtle… it’s lost, missing, wasted, alone. There’s a sense of darkness and despair to
