Monday, October 27, 2003

Reading blog after blog. This one links to this one which links to that one. Some of them link me back where I started which I guess is Baghdad Burning. How did I get to Baghdad Burning? From Will Shetterly (I think). Neil led me to Will. How did I find Neil? Introduction to One Bad Rat and stories and poetry in the Year's Best.

So paper led to electrons which lead to each other and could make a person who is not paying attention think the web is tiny.

Baghdad is not the only place burning of course. San Diego is burning. My father and stepmother are okay as is my youngest sister. Donna? Where are you? Check in with me like a good partner in an erotic graphic novel should.

I feel like I learned more about the Middle East this week than I have in my whole life. It's likely true. I'm woefully ignorant about huge chunks of life while I have the strangest knowledge about some things.

I do this though, I read a whole bunch about a particular subject. All those books about Mallory and Irvine. I still haven't gotten over them. I'd love to get my hands on Irvine's diary. What a guy.

I've been listening to 80's alternative all day which is not a bad way to spend the day but I miss me my Counting Crows.

I'm kind of torn about saying this but dude says it himself sort of so I'll just say that reading turning tablesis actually painful to me. I want to grab this guy by the scruff of his neck, shake him and teach how to write and spell.

Baghdad Burning is also painful but in a different way. In an oh my God how horrible I feel awful wish I could something to help sort of way. That's a much worse feeling.

Still sick. Sandy says I need rest, tlc and a new hematologist. True dat but I also need to be able to breathe. I thought I came up with some anti coughing thing but I must have been hallucinating. Go me!

Why does blogger spellcheck not know the word blog? WTF?

I guess I better finish those horoscopes. I want to finish something a day until I start the novel in a month thing. I wish I had a plot. That Galen thing keeps wanting me to write it. Here's what I wrote at first - really to annoy someone at countingcrows.com - but she was annoying me and she didn't like my first two answers. I wrote it very quickly. Kind of like what I wrote for Adam that turned into Hearts and Flowers.

Galen is a homeless person. He's homeless because once, a very long time ago, he gave someone a ride. Someone named Sonja.

Galen thought he was safe because after all, it was just a girl he was picking up.

But Sonja was a PCP addict. She smiled at Galen while they were driving down a deserted road and cut his throat.

Then she kicked him out of his car and drove away, never to be seen again.

Galen bled in the hot dry air. His vision got darker and darker and then utterly black.

His blood sank into the thirsty desert sand. And then something stirred.

A seed, lying sere for hundreds of years, twitched and grew.

Like all desert plants, it grew swiftly and bloomed. The bloom was blood red. And as large as a small man. When the bloom opened, a winged being stepped out, stretched its wings and yawned.

It looked down at Galen and sighed. Fluttering its new wings, it hovered over him and passed its tentacles over his throat.

The bleeding stopped and a big angry scar formed. Then Galen opened his eyes and looked at the winged being.

No, it said, don't look into my eyes. If you do, then you'll long for what you see forever.

But Galen did it anyway. He looked into those eyes and he's still looking. Wandering through the streets and alleys of New York, looking for those eyes.


0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home