
Bottle Episode
Yesterday, as I was beginning to write this, a fly filled the room.
Yesterday, as I was beginning to write this, a fly filled the room.
It’s a well-known, frequently observed phenomenon that Taylor sleeps more than I do.
But there was Spanish to learn.
In my non-wing hand, I hold my phone, poring over the free PDF I found of 501 Spanish Verbs.
The first time I saw them, I was sitting on Cotter’s lap—he had been my best friend for probably six years at that point—at a meeting I crashed after coming home early from France.
I get restless at night.
In other words, though our memories and fantasies are more silhouettes of sensations than sensations themselves, past, present, and future all look more or less the same.
There was a time in my life when the Chili Peppers dropping a bad record (or at least, for the first time ever, one that I perceived as bad) would have devastated me.
Days like these, I can’t follow a podcast, and music sounds too loud, the tempo much faster than I remembered, the lyrics and storytelling much less compelling.
There are many white people in Grand Rapids, and gossiping about dog breeds is, I guess, what we do.
Vegeta, it turns out, is snotty, entitled, hot-headed, easily manipulated by evil influences, and ultimately, just less powerful than Goku (not to say that’s why I was losing).
Moral: Take care, even when ye be in Haeyste, to not do that which woulde Waste Tyme later, for from Haeyste proceedeth only Waeyste.
It was actually kind of a snap decision, I remember, that we would leave our DSLR cameras behind.
And I know this is a kids’ show. Gritty realism is not always necessary or cool.
I like to imagine that even people who did not know me at my graduation looked at me and thought I was exceptional.
A little over a week ago I stood in the yard, watching while Taylor planted arugula in the beds. I was not in a good mood.
Even digital art or an online article, infinitely reproducible and instantly transmissible, is not timeless nor placeless because it comes from a specific person to an audience.
The concoction will be lightly effervescent when it’s ready.
This year, and any time you play Dark Souls, you will rush into something, and you will fail. You will take your time at something, and you will fail—even at something you’ve done easily a hundred times before.
On this aðfangadagskvöld, it’s my duty to tell you specifically about the final Yule Lad, who arrives tonight. His name is Kertasníkir, and if you know Icelandic, you’re clutching your candles.
It was midnight again, France time, when I sat down for the turkey and mashed potatoes my family had waited to make.
E: Ik heb een zwemdiploma maar als ik in jou ogen kijk verdrink ik.
L: Uh? Sorry, one more time? I want to make sure the readers get this.
First of all, I mean I consumed music almost exclusively from the Red Hot Chili Peppers for three years. If you think I’m exaggerating, talk to any of my friends from high school.
Or maybe I was right to be scared. Maybe my parents only told me giant spiders weren’t real so that I would let my guard down.
Trying to teach myself a notoriously difficult language, not to mention how to be a FAMU-worthy filmmaker, honestly sounded easier than not knowing what I was good at.