WHY DON’T YOU? #194
Monday: Why don’t you learn how to sew and fix your own clothing? I had the most annoying thing happen that always happens. I found a pair of pants that […]
Monday: Why don’t you learn how to sew and fix your own clothing? I had the most annoying thing happen that always happens. I found a pair of pants that […]
LOVE: “La Reina del Sur” Return: She’s coming back. Teresa is coming back. LA REINA RETURNS! I honestly don’t think that I’ll be able to handle this. I can barely […]
Monday: Why don’t you get comfortable with the idea that you aren’t responsible for anybody but yourself? I have spent many wasted years giving to people who take and take […]
Monday: Why don’t you go to the theatre and see whatever is playing? I live close to Des Moines, and there are a surprisingly diverse variety of options. There is […]
LOVE: Cormoran Strike Book Series: The Harry Potter series gives me something akin to PTSD. I loved those damn books so much. I tore through them as soon as I […]
Monday: Why don’t you buy yourself a gorgeous water bottle and fill it exclusively with filtered water? For being as pretentious as I like to be, I feel silly walking […]
Monday: Why don’t you campaign to put an end to the idiocy of daylight saving time? I deeply loathe the shifting clocks, even if I feel slightly more refreshed today […]
LOVE: 7-Eleven Excursion: If you follow any of my travel narratives, you know that the impetus for my trips aren’t always normal. I went to London once for a pair […]
I’ve never been able to eat pea soup without thinking of demonic possession. Do you know anybody who has ever been possessed by an unholy spirit? It happens so often in the movies and television that you’d think we’d all know of at least somebody. I’m in a coffeeshop right now back home, watching the rain fall — like in Mexico City, it won’t stop — and this idea has quite suddenly enraged me. Every week there’s some new show on the Travel Channel about some possessed child.
I was immediately obsessed and spent the rest of the day in a delirium. I too want to be a monk, alone, quiet, doing nothing but building coffins. I dream of becoming a hay farmer in Romania, doing the backbreaking work and worrying only about hay, thinking only of hay. And I would be ecstatic to be an outcast on a deserted island, foraging for food, building shelters out of palm fronds and bamboo poles. It would all suit me down to the ground.