Tuesday, December 22, 2009

...

That night people around me were slowly drowning in small talk. I’m not much of a conversationalist so I sat in the back of the room and listened. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I began to spit out phrases from Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.

A teaspoon of soil

We can leave the library then, go back to the creek lobotomized

Emotions are the curse, not death

Self-consciousness……hinder the experience of the present.


Nobody listened.

2 comments:

  1. You have done it again... You changed the original post?
    I must read it again, but (point 1) the same thing is in the habit of happening to me.

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  2. i'm on vacation, Mr. Crónicas...crazy, unusal events occur.........i do and undo.........like right now, i'm writing this and i have a toothbrush in my mouth...i type a little...brush a little....

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