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<td width="911"><p><font face="Arial"><span style="font-size:18pt;"><b>July
2006 <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com">Home</a></b></span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1257"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">July
16 </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">2006
6:47 P<font size="1">M</font></font></span><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> </span></font><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1257"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1"> </font></a></span></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1257" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/July2006.htm#e1257"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">Permalink</font></a><a id="e1257"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">
</font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a></span></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
feel like such a dolt. I don't seem to be
able to have a job and keep a blog. I am
adjusting to the commute. I like to joke
that the job isn't all fun and games. It
isn't always fun but it is always games.
The work can be quite brain numbing. The
commute can be as well, despite the
fact that I'm reading a book or two a week.
I work mostly with young men and most of
the time I love them. But most of the things
about me that I think are interesting aren't
particularly interesting to them. I come
from it all feeling fairly alienated and
worn. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
not miserable. I have nice days. I love
all the reading. I'm happy to be making
a little (all be it very little) money.
Deb takes me to the grocery store every
Saturday afternoon. I still swim three times
a week. Life has rhythm. It works pretty
well. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">And
I still think I could be writing. I have
a bit of time in the morning though I can't
seem to believe that I do. I still leave
too early. I have less time in the evening
but I have enough to write. I sort of collapse
on Saturday and Sunday I do a variety of
chores. And the days go by. And the weeks.
And soon ... the month.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I've
been enjoying the <a href="http://www.pbs.org/moyers/">new
Moyers series</a>. It's my Friday night
treat. The people come out of the <a href="http://www.pen.org/page.php/prmID/1096">Pen
American conference.</a> I like the <a href="http://raymondfederman.blogspot.com/">Federman</a>
poem on the front page. </span></font></p>
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<font face="Arial"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I cannot write I cannot write<br>
when I want to, when I need to.<br>
I mean I cannot write<br>
what must be written<br>
what demands to be written.<br>
<br>
Every morning I ask myself : why?<br>
No good, nothing, nothing, nothing.<br>
How long will this go on?<br>
Everyday I wake up and around me<br>
terror earthquake murder fire killing<br>
the newspaper the radio the television<br>
tanks famine death war corruption bombs.<br>
<br>
Where am I, me, I mean?<br>
And you? Where are you?<br>
Torn away. Displaced. Angry.<br>
<br>
It's not that I cannot write<br>
oh yes I can write<br>
anything I want<br>
but it's this one thing<br>
this one thing I cannot write<br>
this thing that refuses<br>
to let itself be written<br>
to surface out of me.<br>
<br>
The horror in the world<br>
the human debacle.<br>
<br>
Reading writing speaking<br>
my life has been but that<br>
a life of words <br>
a pell mell babel of words<br>
a life full of stories<br>
but a life anyway.<br>
I awake here in exile<br>
It's because of the world<br>
because of history<br>
because of what goes<br>
on in the world<br>
that concerns us<br>
frightens us<br>
dejects us<br>
saddens us<br>
<br>
the moment I jump<br>
out of bed there is<br>
this horror in the world<br>
and I cannot write it...</span></font></td>
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<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yeah.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
I write the same post again and again. About
the commute and the reading and the not
enoughness. These are desperate posts that
really should just say: Don't forget me.
Keep checking in. I promise I'll write.
I will. Please don't leave me. I need to
push myself. But I push to get to work and
I push through the day and I push to get
home. I don't have much push left.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Today
I feel desperately sad. Mostly because of
some money stuff that feels beyond my ability.
I feel like ... a dolt. And I thought I
wouldn't write because I feared the tone.
Because I haven't been desperately sad all
this time. It's just a thing that's going
on. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There
was chocolate cake in the cafeteria on my
birthday.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(1560)</script> <noscript></span><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_1560"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></a><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript></span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"> </p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1258"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">July
24 </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">2006
7:21 A<font size="1">M</font></font></span><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> </span></font><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1258"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1"> </font></a></span></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span class="rss:item"><a id="e1258" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/July2006.htm#e1258"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">Permalink</font></a><a id="e1258"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1">
</font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a></span></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Last
week was a week of good news, bad news, no news and
news I'm still not sure how to categorize. It gave me
a wicked case of the spins.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">On
Monday I had a post forming in my head all day. When
I got home from work it was all done but the typing
and I was determined to get it down. And then the bad
news came. I could feel a hole open in the back of my
head and the post rushed out blown by the shock wave
of fear, frustration and anger. On Tuesday I tried
to pull it back but all I could get was fragments.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">And
so it goes. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode"><span style="font-size:11pt;">This
week I start working overtime three nights a week. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><font face="Lucida Sans Unicode" size="1"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(1561)</script> <noscript></span><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_1561"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></a><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript></span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"> </p>
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