There's more to say, there always is. Remarking on my own occupying forces and the direction my life is heading, I think this is the place to stop. My impulses in writing have either been met or fallen into the ashen past without much outcry. It's time to put down the pen and pick up the sword, charge into the fray which is my sorry life, and ( Read more... )

“Walking all the day near tall towers where falcons build their nests ( Read more... )

“I’m not giving up, but I need a little light. Save it for the break of day ( Read more... )

When I was a young and sensitive boy living on Robinhood Road, nestled deep in the winding roads of Fox Chapel, there weren’t any other boys my age on my street. I spent most of my time trailing after my siblings and their friends - who lived in the neighborhood and were around their ages. The closest thing I had to kids around my own age were a ( Read more... )

"Are you in or are you out ( Read more... )

Since Liz and I took a trip to Taco Bell one late night a few weeks ago, I've been aware that her parents were coming to visit. Between stray facts, a few physical descriptions, and a recurring motif of her sister, I have to say I'm curious about Liz's family. More than I am most things. She invited me to dinner with the 'rents and as a matter of ( Read more... )

There's a girl in my Writing Fiction class. She gives me a bit of trouble. Tuesday night I had a dream about her - erotic dream about her - one that left me feeling oh-so-unfulfilled. I talked about it on Wednesday when I consulted Deb Thaler on another psychological quagmire that I've fallen into, mentioned it to Dr. Bluhm, told My Darling Girl ( Read more... )

Something shifted in my psyche recently and I've submerged into night rhythms again. I can't specifically indicate what caused my retreat into the nocturne, though if I had to guess - I'd say stress of some sort. Which stress is indeterminate. Life right now is pretty good. My classes are managable, I've finally found the middle ground for ( Read more... )

Prompted by Deb Dickey's urgings in class on Thursday, I was in a mood to question scientific authority and root out gender bias. So when a rerun of Saturday Night Live reported that women make 73 cents for each dollar a man makes, I went to check it out ( Read more... )

"Thunder only happens when it's rainin'. Players only love you when they're playin ( Read more... )