I miss all those people and all these places. In fact, missing things might be the only unpleasant part of travel. Abroad, your existence is transitory; you are an ephemeral presence in another world. I think of these encounters daily, like the waitress at the Café Saint-Antoine that I adored, but they’re surely too busy living their lives to recall a young man who spent a month on their shores. Still, it’s wonderful to have that to remember and reflect on.
I love movies. I have longed to be working in that magical industry for the most of my life. I never really longed to be a star; I don’t think I’m an actor. I’m too much myself to ever become another character, you know? But to direct or write or design would be a dream. Many years ago, famed and beloved psychic, Sylvia Browne, told me that my destiny was in Hollywood as a producer. The older I get, the more I see that she was right. I mean, I’m not on a direct path to producing by any means, but my diverse interests have led me down some strange paths that could end there.
Monday: Why don’t you go to your favorite cemetery and randomly research one of the people interred there? I think there’s nowhere more interesting than a cemetery, they’re full of […]
Monday: Why don’t you spend a day in complete and absolute silence? There are few things rarer than the blissful glory of utter quiet. All day, every day, we have […]
We went to Planet Fitness and one of the employees took us on a tour. She showed us all the exercise equipment which we politely nodded at, but she quickly became disgusted with us after she asked what our fitness goals were. “To be tan,” I replied, quite seriously. She scoffed somewhat but controlled her rage and gave us the tour of the massage chairs, tanning beds, and body vibrator things. This looked delightful so we signed up at once.
One life is hardly enough. I have no fear of death, but I really am irked that I only have a century here. And that is if I’m lucky. For a lot of people, more than I ever expected, a hundred years is plenty. People are tired and worn down and disinterested in life. I think there’s nothing more thrilling than being alive, seeing what’s around and learning about what has happened in the recent and distant past, so I will never understand this attitude. If I could live forever, I would pay whatever price. I’d make a deal with the Devil if that were a real thing.
Monday: Why don’t you pick something up at the grocery store that frightens you? All my long life, I have disliked peppers. Nothing could convince me that they were worth […]
One of my dream jobs is to work at the British Museum. There is not a role I would not happily do there. I would love being a janitor. I would clean displays. I would do, quite literally, anything. It is my great ambition one day to call them an employer. I don’t love London, not by any means, but I love that museum with passion. I have applied innumerable times in the past, but I have received so many polite rejections that I have given that up.
I woke up gasping for air, wondering if the Grim Reaper had finally come. I didn’t really feel like dying, but I quickly rationalized that I’d led a life worth remembering, and I was fairly certain several people would host a funereal roast for me. So I accepted my mortal end. It was chic enough to die in Mexico City.
Monday: Why don’t you subscribe to all the magazines you admire at the airport bookshop but refuse to buy because they cost far too much? I’ve discovered that you can […]
Benjamin Phillips 