At the close of each year it has become customary for me to write about the year that has been, not so much to glean from it some inchoate narrative line or life lesson as to simply have a record of where I am in the journey so far, so here I am.
What can I tell you about the year that has been?
I can tell you that this year I read plenty of great books. I can tell you that I tried to resuscitate a dying relationship, one that meant to me more than any other relationship in my life, and failed. I travelled to some new cities and revisited old ones. I made new friends, lost a few. I suffered a great deal of losses, but earned myself some victories. I discovered new things about myself I did not know, and even more about people and friendships. I learned that there are certain things that stay with you forever, long after they are gone. And I can tell you that I have loved and I have gotten hurt, and I have come out of it battered and bruised but all the more better for it.
Continue reading “The Year That Has Been”
Nothing too long or drawn out.
Ten minutes, perhaps less. Use straightforward language. Simple sentences. No Jamesian syntax or vocabulary David Foster Wallace would likely approve of. The tone could either be sad, or it could be self-deprecating. Maybe both.
The story is going to be about friendship. More than that, it is a story about the loss of that friendship.
Continue reading “Notes for a Moth Story Called “Johannes”*”
Today is the fifteenth of August, and today you turn twenty-seven. Not unlike the previous times you woke up on your birthday, you don’t feel that much different from the person who went to bed last night. You’re still the horny, somewhat angry, pimply, overeager self. Except now when you look in the mirror, you’ve actually grown to love the image staring back at you—or at least, most days. Even the clouds outside your bedroom window are grey and heavy, just like how they usually are back home this time of the year.
Continue reading “Twenty-seven”
I am in Vienna for the weekend because I have been listless too long and burned out too badly and too often shiftless to do anything except rewatch my favorite episodes of Breaking Bad on Netflix. I am also in Vienna because it is here where my good friend Theresa now lives and she has invited me to visit, with promises that she would host me and that I would not have to spend a single dime for the entire trip.
There is another reason why I am here for the weekend: I am here because Vienna has always struck me as an infinitely romantic city, and I imagined it would be great to visit the places where Jesse and Céline have been and pretend that I too am young and in love.
I was actually recovering from the flu in the days leading up to the trip, and I tried to speed up my recovery with plenty of bedrest and a concoction of warm lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, and honey. I’m not sure it worked because on the morning I was to fly out, my body felt as though it had been struck by a mack truck. I made it to my gate three minutes before it closed.
Continue reading “Chasing Sunrise”