May 23, 2002. written during a shift working for DRC, Fields-Ertel, Cincinnati.

People are chosen every day, every minute, chosen and called to perform some task so grand, so important that it can only mask itself in coincidental insignificance, just to insure that it SHALL GET DONE. Nothing is ever done by the wholly responsible, no accomplishment is so necessary as to pull the hair-pullers from their hair-pulling. One hundred men rise at once, some with heads ringing, others with heads buzzing. Thankful for their jobs, cursing their heads.

New tack>>>> I wouldn't mind if never heard that sound again. I'll give you a kiss and swear not to miss that sound. Replace these motors humming with the ancient whispers I never knew til I slept in the dirt, by the fire, near the water-----seeing nothing, feeling laughter, hearing dirt shift beneath my head, hearing fire steer the stage coach with a distant gentle whip, mouthing words which no fire-filled eye could ever hope to lip-read, and a blanket of no word but water to give me life and take more from me than I ever gave myself.


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May, 1995. Cincinnati, Victory Parkway.

One day while watching the commercials during the Ricki Lake show, a brief news item came on. "Tonight at 11, new church in the tri-state is attracting a Generation X membership"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!" I said disgustedly.

One of my housemate's girlfriend laughed and asked, "What the fuck IS generation X anyway?"

I sort of explained, kind of, I guess. My housemate explained, "It's all computer's faults....and our parents....and the government. How could we NOT be fucked up?!"

I said "Well, that's a very generation X thing to say" and he looked at me like I was the idiot!