Category Archives: blessings
All she wants to eat is peanut butter.
I’m trying to figure out breakfast on my ten minutes off the line of a busy french bakery. Peanut butter.
I’m trying to participate in an adult discussion about pizza toppings. Peanut butter.
I’m crying alone in my bed at night, feeling like everything is caving in and I am never going to be any use to myself or anyone else…
I live in a yard, in a lovely shed with a sliding glass door and one perfect window. It was insulated by a friend who lived there before me. She had fabric hanging from the ceiling because she hadn’t perfected drywall when she did the ceiling and she said looking at it reminded her of constant failure. That sort of thing doesn’t bother me the same way, so their is no fabric hanging from my ceiling. Read the rest of this entry
When I was 15 I ran off to Hawaii. It was the farthest away I could get without a passport, which there was no way of attaining without parental consent. I had forged paper work saying I was emancipated after working extremely odd jobs (the kind reserved for people who were not legal members of the work force) until I had money for a ticket. No one can get emancipated in Washington at 15 but by the time anyone noticed I was no longer on the continent.
I came back sooner then I expected. Read the rest of this entry
As a child I was destined to be a rodeo clown. How else would I use all of my beloved handkerchiefs? plus extra large shoes.
Or I would be a drag racer because Read the rest of this entry
Wow! I was remembering that as a one person country band I had cut a demo in my favorite dilapidated dancehall in deep west Olympia several years ago. I remember that at the time it ended up somewhere on the internet so today I searched for my band, “One Disaster Short of a Country Song” and I did not find the demo but I did find a bootleg I had no idea existed… Read the rest of this entry
I wrote this on the evening of March 20th four years ago when I got off work at Quality Burrito in downtown Olympia. It’s rare because a line in it tells me what day it was written and almost none of my writing is dated. When I find the few notebooks that have survived, they could be from anytime and often they were from many. I would write a few pages in a book then leave it in an attic or basement or tent, travel around several states and then, if I happened to come across it again, pick it up and repeat. Read the rest of this entry
I have lived inside for more than five years. In rooms that are four walls or at least some kind of four wall concept, most with doors that shut. These rooms are in houses with bathrooms that have big ole water wasting flush toilets where I do the vast majority of my business. There are ceilings on these houses that keep out rain for the most part. There are mattresses in my rooms, now there is even a bedframe, a head and a footboard. There are rooms with stoves and working refrigerators and when we say we are out of food we are not counting the pantry full of the food bank cans we prefer the least. Read the rest of this entry
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.
I spent plenty of time in parking lots, frustrated like the seeds pushing from underneath them.
I didn’t know that we were all struggling together, our foreheads pressed against the backside of the asphalt.
Hello and happy birthday, I am 29 years old today and would like to give each of you and your grown up friends a copy of this novel I wrote in November.Since I don’t know a lot of you yet and in one hour it won’t be a birthday present anymore, I am settling with giving you a link. Read the rest of this entry
My dog died 10 days ago.
Motel 6, 47.00 for bloodstains on the carpet and cigarette burns on the pillows. Salt water taffy stuck in my teeth, I don’t brush it out because where else is breakfast going to come from.
Read the rest of this entry
I had a funny little kids guitar. It was only a little kids guitar in this culture where we give little kids a lot of crap that doesn’t work very well. Other places kids get beautiful instruments, well built but tinnier.
Anyways I had a funny little guitar with thick plastic strings that could not have held a tune if it were a bucket covered in super glue. Read the rest of this entry