Crawling out in the second person.
Falling into the hole and climbing back out.
You are standing in a dimly lit hallway. Around you rise the screams of the undead.
What I was doing last night until it was far too early in the morning.
Chalk outlines of the subconscious mind.
Thoughts and dreams during a storm on a tour in Atlanta.
Delicate alchemy.
Besides the 1,129-song MP3 list I have on my computer, a random sampling of everything from early Bob Dylan to current Nine Inch Nails, my music-listening options at the moment … Continue reading
Train of thought jumping the tracks.
What happened? This used to come so easily. What happened to the pipeline between mind and mouth and fingers, why do they no longer cooperate, why does mind have lofty … Continue reading
Pip, pip, cheerio, all that rot.
Just received, via Royal Mail, somewhat definitive proof [1] that my writing has gone international–a program, from Vince Pham, for the production of 2 Plays, 5 Sketches . . . … Continue reading
Fraud! Fraud!
Last night, I brought Don and Danielle out to my apartment to read through Staring Contest purely as a diagnostic of sorts, to see what needed to be worked on … Continue reading
Creative Control 