This is intended to be a documentation of the next few days of my life, but I'd like to take a moment to speak to the last few days of my life. Please, fuck off and die.
It's been a rough few days/weeks/years. Mostly days, at this point. I'm not naturally methodical, but something of this magnitude begs to be organized and written down and planned. I'm not good at any of those things (particularly the writing) but, needs must as the devil drives. So I'm marking the last few things off my list right now, biggest being "car/packing". At least I think that says "packing". Those of you familiar with my handwriting can, I hope, sympathize with me right now. All that's left is cooking, and going. I'm ready to go.
I've not "blogged" before. I don't think I'll have any trouble with it-I'm no stranger to talking about myself. But I want to make this a fairly true communication-I want this to have the same voice that I have in the meat world. All the same boisterous, nosy, pain-in-the-ass Aaron that you're used to. Just, Courier Aaron.
I spent a lot of time in the Valley today, riding the bus and then driving down. (I also spent a lot of time in Salem today, but the less said about that the better. Salem's a pit. It's where joy goes to die.) The clouds were incredible-vast and comforting and inpenetrable. At one point, the sun did that Christian greeting-card luminous-pillar-of-the-sun bullshit, and I just had to laugh. There was a time when I looked to the birds in the sky to tell my future. Ornithomancy. Right now, I think I feel more like aeromancy-I'm reading the sky. To the south, there's a huge bank of clouds, like a wall. Time to go.
More later...with PICTURES.
2 comments:
oh lord no... now you have a cyber voice?
... needless to say i will be following this.
ps this freaky sight knew my name and signed me in to comment... black magic
happy trails and great adventures to you both. here is my initial photo commentary:
nice to meet you cyberface to cyberface, aaron.
david, why did you dip fenster's lower half in bleach? he's a classic cat, man, he doesn't need to follow fur trendiness.
i'm happy to see a photo of where you two live. love the wreath.
jeez. you named/adopted the stray cat. crazy old cat men. you're both going to grow to be crazy old cat men.
david, if you gathered up all the empties, errant pipes and related paraphenalia in these images you could put together a very fine still life.
son, your room is chaos theory in practice. way to hold your ground.
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