Day 27

Monday | March 26th, 2012


It’s starting to feel like all time is becoming shapeless goo and globbing about in a wallowy pit of do-nothingness. I hate this feeling. When I’m in it, all things drag like metal over asphalt and I start to want to do more, but end up with less for each effort exerted.

Time out of joint, one might say. The molasses exists only outside of the jar, I say. All I want is to lie down and dream—that’s where the action is.

Today, I dreamt I was laying in a desert feeling the icy wind whip layers of sand over me. I was laying in a curve of plastic sheeting, warm, but never knowing real warmth, thinking that this cold wind and the plastic protecting me was just better than usual. Then I was laying on the terminator of the moon, the sun burning my face on one side the inviting blackness freezing the other.

I should have been walking the dogs with Meow, but instead I parked myself along the bank of the river, took pictures of my feet and got all existential. When they looped back around, I stood up and tried to brush off the molasses.

I’ve spent a pinch of time fiddling with a calendar and task lists this evening. I need schedules to put this train back on the tracks. OR I need a 60 hour a week job to stack my schedule for me so I can forfeit more life to a point where molasses is something to look forward to and every vacation is an automatic stacation complete with door prizes for best moments in wallowing.

Wallowing and molasses at one end and meloncholy on the other, it’s all the same rope and I refuse to be hung. I know the things I want to do. I’ve put them down on schedules and notes now with alarms going off to warn me of the massive blocks of free molasses sliding downhill towards me. Wednesdays are planned for the next three weeks; Saturdays for the next four. After that … ?

This was to be my project this week, but then I cut my finger off. As punishment for not paying attention, I got to sit around on my ass all day and not move my hand. In front of the tv. That is what molasses is, television, sitting, idling, succumbing, joining.

Daily Report

I didn’t sleep last night. I struggled to write or create a script that would grab an .mp3 from a folder, open it, insert markers in pre-determined places, split the audio file into eleven segments based on those

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Out beyond the fake lake (Bomun) for Christmas Day lunch at a place called the Healing Kitchen. It’s all farms and hilltops here. And roads to more farms and hilltops. Except for the noise from the cars, I

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The Fourth Wall

I’m here and alive. Ten days behind the reality of my written life, yet here and alive. TOEIC is the predominant motif of life from the end of the semester until … today. This is the end, after

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This Old Hanok

When we had the bathroom done, we wanted to design our own window for the part of the wall which straddles the storage space along the side of the house. This way we could have clean airflow through

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