Something in the way….

by heytherewildflower

Last night my roommate and I had a late night sitting on the kitchen floor bonding “SESH” partly induced by the side effects of her Sailor Jerry gig and partly induced by the celebratory sake I drank with Sam and Sarah earlier in the evening (because Sam is now officially GAINFULLY EMPLOYED (as he likes to say) to the MF mayor of MF Seattle…the very same politico who outlawed UMBRELLAS for the occupy protests.) anyway Jamie is quite pleased with me for having noticed her vase full of mustache accessories casts a pirate ship shaped shadow on the heater ventilator (which, if you ask me, looks something like a grinning mouth of wave teeth and shadow. perhaps. sorta. if you get intepretive about it. which I always do, duh.)

IF you understood the paragraph that just happened, A+. You are fluent in non-sequitor Ali-ese. Either you’ve at some point spent too much time with me or we have a meeting of the minds. meeting of the minds is a cool thing to say. Jamie and I had one of those last night, and it all perfectly coalesced in the picture posted below:

AY MATEEE, iz that a ship i see upon the horizon?

or a chicken? or a swan? or a lochness swanster?

and  in the past week I’ve organized my time in such a way that …now I am volunteering at 826 on the weekends, helping run multiple poetry events, dog walking for $, working 9-5 and volunteering in the library after work. the library gig should start up next week.

I am excited to see if I get burnt out. It’ll be a test of my patience with entry level positions. God knows me and waitressing were NOT meant to be.

When THEY SAY the first couple years after college are really exciting because you’ll never have so much freedom to experiment with your time and your interests….they really are right. I didn’t believe it this summer…but I am coming around.

Often down here I have entered into a sanctuary; a nunnery; had a religious retreat; of great agony once; and always some terror; so afraid one is of loneliness; of seeing to the bottom of the vessel. That is one of the experiences I have had here in some Augusts; and got then to a consciousness of what I call ‘reality’: a thing I see before me: something abstract; but residing in the downs or sky; beside which nothing matters; in which I shall rest and continue to exist.

Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry dated 10 September 1928

People like me write because otherwise we are pretty inarticulate. Our articulation is our writing

William Trevor (via theparisreview)

In dreams you don’t need to make any distinctions between things. Not at all. Boundaries don’t exist. So in dreams there are hardly ever collisions. Even if there are, they don’t hurt. Reality is different. Reality bites. Reality, reality.

Haruki Murakami (Sputnik Sweetheart)