imaginarycircus

Dang. I used to write here every day, almost. I had so much to say. Now it is awkward. And I haven't been writing at all which is troubling. I should be producing some new prose--but the last two weeks or so I haven't had the energy or interest. I just finished reading Karen Armstrong's "Through the Narrow Gate." I was in equal measures horrified and delighted that I had nailed certain qualities of being an unhappy nun--but I always worry that someone will think I just copied ideas. Well, there isnt anything I can do about that now. Human circumstance is what it is and parts of some stories will always be the same no matter what.

I have a horrid headache. It is 71 degrees here in nyc. 71 degrees here in January is creepy and wrong. I wanted to smash all the SUVs at the supermarket yesterday. I seriously wished I were a huge metal contraption that could rip all the bumpers off and smash them all. I could smash all of them in the world. I could keep smashing them until people stopped buying them. What ridiculous, impotent rage I have right now. Between that and the thing I heard last night that the Iraq war costs 10 million bucks an hour... I just don't know how anyone could conscience that sort of expenditure when there are so many people in the US who need medicine, food, and shelter. Who need education... Sorry you can't have this asthma medicine, Timmy. We have to make sure Halliburton makes billions instead. It is just maddening. Not to mention scary when you think of the debt and that China and Saudi Arabia could devalue all our money and ruin us very easily. We're already led by a morally bankrupt government, so I suppose it would be fitting if we were finanicially ruined too. But how horrible. How scary that would be.

And it is 71 degrees on January 6.