inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com
Ink Spills & Dust: My Conversation with Shadows
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Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Wednesday, September 17, 2008. My Conversation with Shadows. We worry about all these things of today’s time. Politics, cancer, AIDs, mad cows, Georgia, steroids, twelve year old gymnasts, World Series, sex, money, diplomas…it’s nobody’s fault you know? Every evil person in the world is enough cause to damn the human race. Every sick psycho, pedophile, serial killer, deranged dictator, rapist, and school bully is...
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Ink Spills & Dust: November 2007
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Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Tuesday, November 13, 2007. We open our eyes. The soft light of the laptop screen. Still open from the last life. When you fell asleep. Still thinking of Japan. But morning feels like dying. And morning is like mourning. Like dust beneath the bed. And broken watches in sock drawers. Because movement admits that time exists. And if time exists then so does distance. And if distance exists so do oceans. An ode to a cat.
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Ink Spills & Dust: April 2008
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Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Sunday, April 27, 2008. A Boy Named Light. I have taken enough writing courses in my life to know the dynamics of a properly set up story. I’ll be honest, in college I couldn’t stand reading most of what my classmates wrote. I struggled to pay attention. The problem was that we were peer editing for the most part so I had to come up with something constructive and positive to say about their work. It bored me though.
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Ink Spills & Dust: July 2007
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Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Monday, July 23, 2007. The city lights dwindle in the distance. The polluted white ambiance softly pulses. The sky is streaked with long fibrous clouds that diffuse the half-moon’s light and break up constellations. We’re driving down a gravel road, the clock reads ten past midnight. Was the response in my head. Drifts through my mind. Well, you’d be crushed of course, but after enough tears and Jack Daniel...I rock ...
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Ink Spills & Dust: 9 9 9 and the Words End
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Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Friday, September 5, 2008. 9 9 9 and the Words End. Like in “A Tell Tale Heart,” it is some horrific noise that reverberates deep down touching a nerve that releases a note of anger and discord within my head. God, the pounding, why won’t it stop? Emiko brought me to the library. It’s just a stones throw away from the local city offices where she works. She introduced me to the head librarian who is a friend of hers.
inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com
Ink Spills & Dust: September 2008
http://inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html
Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Wednesday, September 17, 2008. My Conversation with Shadows. We worry about all these things of today’s time. Politics, cancer, AIDs, mad cows, Georgia, steroids, twelve year old gymnasts, World Series, sex, money, diplomas…it’s nobody’s fault you know? Every evil person in the world is enough cause to damn the human race. Every sick psycho, pedophile, serial killer, deranged dictator, rapist, and school bully is...
inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com
Ink Spills & Dust: August 2007
http://inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html
Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Saturday, August 11, 2007. I met a toy man with a broken nose. He said that forgiveness was the way to. Survive silent stings of remorse that patter through the twilight. Because night and day collide. Like daydreams and sparrows with clean windows. We sit and spew feverish poetry at fraudulent paces. To outweigh the guilt that we share. For bombing a home in Afghanistan. And buying gasoline for camel slaughter.
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Ink Spills & Dust: My Affairs of Advanced Capitalism
http://inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-affairs-of-advanced-capitalism.html
Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Sunday, November 30, 2008. My Affairs of Advanced Capitalism. A man was trampled to death. That sounds like such an odd way of going doesn’t it? I mean, I can understand if it happened to a safari guide, elephant trainer, or kindergarten teacher. This wouldn’t sound like such an odd way to go if it was in a third-world country with lots of religious pilgrims. But no, this man that died worked at Wal-Mart. When he ove...
inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com
Ink Spills & Dust: November 2008
http://inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html
Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Sunday, November 30, 2008. My Affairs of Advanced Capitalism. A man was trampled to death. That sounds like such an odd way of going doesn’t it? I mean, I can understand if it happened to a safari guide, elephant trainer, or kindergarten teacher. This wouldn’t sound like such an odd way to go if it was in a third-world country with lots of religious pilgrims. But no, this man that died worked at Wal-Mart. When he ove...
inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com
Ink Spills & Dust: October 2007
http://inkspillsanddust.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html
Ink Spills and Dust. Fiction and Non-fiction pieces from a voice that dreams of freedom. Monday, October 15, 2007. I went to a huge church last Sunday. It was brand new with seating 3 levels high. In the nose bleed sections were mounted LCD monitors so you could still see the pastor. There was an elevator, parking attendants, stage lights, and full surround sound. Classical music plays for twenty seconds. They stand next to an apple tree. This is my problem. This is so superficial. And I'm not cl...Becau...
