She sat there at the wooden desk fussing with her face with one hand and playing with her armpit stubble with the other. Her complexion shining like uncooked eggs, her brown hair as dry as a wheat field ( Read more... )

This is where things get difficult: when I am happy. I have always been one to make things go wrong; to make myself suffer. I guess sometimes I feel guilty being comfortable and happy, as if it should'nt be happening to me ( Read more... )

I have been home for 3 days now. Well, technically only 2 days and half a night. It is very nice and comfy. The bathroom is where I find myself trying to adjust the most. The toilet handles in London are very, well, hard to push. One needs to have a firm grip on the lever, a strong push and a nice follow through for the goddamn thing to flush. Thus ( Read more... )

December 5, 2005 ( Read more... )

Demember 4, 2005 ( Read more... )

December 3, 2005

Starbucks Visit #2
Gloucester Rd.

I'm looking at a young man whose left-handed. He has ink smears all over his fingers and stains on the side of his palm. This comforts me and I smile and stare. I look down at my tired little left hand, covered in blue ink and I'm realizing that maybe people aren't so different.

December 1, 2005 ( Read more... )

The Old Jewish Cemetery in Josefov, the Jewish Quarter, was created in the 15th century when Jews were forbidden to bury their dead outside their own district. Space was scarce, so bodies were buried on top of each other in an estimated 12 layers. Over the centuries, lopsided tombstones formed unruly, poetic groupings.

I think a nice metaphor for ( Read more... )

September 19th, 2005 ( Read more... )

I ( Read more... )