Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.
– e.e. cummings
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about death. Maybe it’s reading passages like the one above, or maybe it’s because I’ve always felt older than my age. Not wiser, not more mature, but older. It’s not my fault, really. Momz has been inadvertently priming me for it most of my life. When I turned twenty-four, Momz started saying, “Now that my children are thirty…” When I hit thirty-two, she started asking, “Can you believe that you’re almost forty?” I still have well over a decade to go, but I have a feeling that our next conversations will begin with “Now that you’re approaching fifty…” (more…)
Hey, you that dream differently,
Remember that dream you had where you found yourself in a bullring in the middle of a tiny town in southern Mexico, watching some dude dressed in a slightly too short devil costume and black Reeboks with white socks that winked at you when he sprinted across the dusty ring fleeing a charging bull. And remember that moment after he finished shotgunning beers at the ringside, mixing self-delusion and courage (more…)
Feliz Navidad, Merry Xmas, Happy Hanukkah; however you kick it, may your holidays be good ones.