The Souls of Babies

Tomorrow I'm coming back to New York from California. I spent most of the time on my parents' couch, eating. Reluctant, and hopeful, about my real life. I need to rearrange some pretty difficult, but not impossible, things.

Among other things: need a haircut, need to eat more greens, need to work on my new song, need to stop watching television, need to finish two stories and need to stop wondering how you're so horrible all the time.

ca m'etegal

San Francisco nightlife never fails to disappoint!
And everything tastes exactly the same everywhere you go.

On Christmas day, a tiger named Tatiana escaped from her grotto in the San Francisco Zoo, and attacked three teenage boys. She followed a trail of blood to where one of the boys had collapsed, and slashed his throat.

I do not understand the aesthetic of Irony, and I'm only saying this because I've had some new buttons made. they're purple an have blue words and they read JE M'AIME. I'm not being ironic, exactly.

Feel pretty sad about Benazir Bhutto's assassination.

"You can imprison a man, but not an idea. You can exile a man, but not an idea. You can kill a man, but not an idea."

Reading Lorrie Moore's Birds of America and found this bit particularly apt. Thinking of dictatorship and freedom. Political coups. Writing a song. Escaped tigers. Learning to make love to someone.

"Talent. I don't have talent. I have willingness. What talent?" As a kid, she had always told the raunchiest jokes. As an adult, she could rip open a bone and speak out of it. Simple, clear. There was never anything to stop her. why was there never anything to stop her? "I can stretch out the neck of a sweater to point a mole on my shoulder. Anyone who didn't get enough attention in nursery school can do that. Talent is something else."

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