My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I formulate infinity stored deep inside of me…

Archive for February, 2012


February 28th, 2012 | Category: Life

Obviously, I fucked up February.

Not so obviously, I can’t sleep.


Bad day

February 14th, 2012 | Category: Life

I had a bad day on the midway.

1 comment


February 13th, 2012 | Category: Life

Really, a real post is coming.

No comments


February 12th, 2012 | Category: Life

Not working out

February 11th, 2012 | Category: Life

So, I hired this tabby cat to write my blog, and it’s only been two days, but I feel like it’s not working out. His posts are really less interesting than I expected, and his prose are flat and unimaginative. I think he’s perfectly capable of writing, say, a user manual for growing sea monkeys, but our personal and creative differences have only served to build an unexpectedly hostile work environment. Therefore, I’ve decided that we should cut ties personally and professionally effective immediately.

I wonder if a turtle would be a better fit?

1 comment

A bird

February 10th, 2012 | Category: Life

A bird was so mean to me today. They think they’re so great because they can fly. Birds are not great. I hate them.

1 comment

Today today

February 09th, 2012 | Category: Creative Flash,Life

So, today I woke up and gave myself a bath in the backyard, spending an extra hour just licking the back of my neck. God, the ecstasy. Then, I took my usual six-hour nap under the big shady tree. This might seem lazy, but licking the back of one’s neck for an hour is kind of exhausting, and I’ll be honest, since being honest is what I’ve been hired to do, a little orgasmic. All a fellow wants to do is nap.

There’s this other cat, Tom, he’s such a douche. He lives in a tree behind my house. Literally, in the tree. I have to give him credit, living in a tree’s pretty intense, but I think it’s more that he’s socially awkward rather than enlightened. He’s always talking about the time he lit out, he’s always saying things like “lit out,” about the time he lit out on some river-raft with this black cat, Jim. It’s like, “Tom, nobody cares that the river was powerful slow, or how the nights were powerful dark. You’re a pretentious douche.” Nobody says this to his face, of course, but we think it. I sleep under his tree is why I mention him, he always gets me after naps, telling his adventures.

Anyway, more tomorrow about tomorrow.

1 comment


February 08th, 2012 | Category: Life

So, today, nothing. I’m thinking about hiring a moderately skilled tabby cat to write my blog.


Better days

February 07th, 2012 | Category: Life

So, clearly this blog has seen better days. I really do want it to be like it was, but I have to make that happen. There’s so much in my head it’s making me crazy, but I can’t get any of it out. I have to try harder.


Idiot math

February 06th, 2012 | Category: Life,Opinions

So, yesterday I was sick, a really unpleasant kind of sick, and while I was sick I just turned off my brain and started watching this spectacularly train-wrecky show, Sister Wives, it’s about this polygamist fellow and his four wives. The show’s bizarre on lots of levels, but this one thing immediately jumped out at me. In order to justify his skeezy lifestyle, the fellow says, “Love should be multiplied, not divided.” Love should be multiplied, not divided. He says it so philosophically, like he’s fuckin’ Plato. He talks like he’s cutting edge, state of the art. I’m not particularly good at math, but I know idiot math when I see it. His little polygamist formula accomplishes exactly the opposite of its supposed intent. He’s multiplying his number of wives, but dividing his time, and his love, between his gaggle of women. He sleeps in a different bedroom every night, they go on separate dates, he’s spreading his love thin, he’s not multiplying anything but his sleeping arrangements.

When you love a woman you should love her, and only her, honestly, and completely, and always. Love is real when you’re with someone and the rest of the world goes away. You look in her eyes and everything around you gets soft, muted, all you see is her. All you feel is how much you love her. You look in her eyes and you’re not worried about schedules, money, the tedium of the day. You’re not scared of dying, where you might go after you die. All you see is her, you don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, ever. She’s more intoxicating than any liquor, any drug. She’s your everything. That’s love, and you know it when you feel it.

Polygamy’s something, but that something isn’t love. Not really.


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