Passing Through the Leaves

Mountain biking along the Potomac River

Sat, 18 May 2013 08:30:58 -0400

Mountain biking along the Potomac River

Good Will

Fri, 17 May 2013 01:50:57 -0400

What kind of choices have you made?
Who are you going to be, and who will you save?
We want to be doctors and lawyers and celebrities alike,
But what that really means is to be a piggy bank for life.
What is your purpose and who is it for?
Is it for yourself, your future kids, or are you not sure…
Is there some greater cause with which you cover your shores, only to hide what’s behind the doors…
Of the houses behind the dunes, that can only be seen from above. You and Him. That’s all who knows. So what really drives you…
And how will you shove?

A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain...

Thu, 09 May 2013 20:40:20 -0400

A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain while the clock ticked on the washstand and the moon soaked with wet light his tangled clothes upon the floor. Each night he added to the pattern of his fancies until drowsiness closed down upon some vivid scene with an oblivious embrace.

- The beginning of James Gatz
“The Great Gatsby”

"All life is just a progression toward and then a recession from, one phrase—‘I love you.’"

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 20:37:06 -0500

“All life is just a progression toward and then a recession from, one phrase—‘I love you.’”

- The Offshore Pirate by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Throwing words onto a keyboard.

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 01:06:00 -0500

Breaking innocence till it’s dust and finding bleakness in the smallest husk.
Waking up to a sea of retribution but never knowing if what its for.
You find yourself going from door to door, looking inside only to ignore:
The tastes that await and the people inside, a future you wish to hide.
You create a book of notes to follow. Its all in your head, and your heart is hollow.
Waiting for a path to take, you ask yourself what is that you want.
Ideas pull you. Everyday they taunt. You settle, but then you change you mind. Full of strife, you ask one more time.
Again and again the question looms, and over time you figure you’re just inept. Maybe even doomed.
I stop and stare, at the book of simple pleasures. What is it filled with? Things that can only be taken with a certain frame, one with which I cannot measure.
Take your thoughts and rules. Throw them out the window.
One day you’ll look back and see that you knew not what you wanted, only to find it was not your choice. Its a path you cannot see, a path in which you have no voice. It fate. You see it too late. You close the door and another door opens. But only to find that it was opened for you. Stop and take in the view. It’s a beach. For the water you take a reach.
A romance to serenity ensues.
An ambivalence to consciousness grows within you.
Taking it all in you come to terms
with the answer, which your body yearns.

Fuck it and ride the waves. It’s enough to be alive today.

I wrote this without a pause in thought. It makes no sense at all. Oh well.

Looking forward to doing this again this summer, but over a few...

Tue, 22 Jan 2013 22:37:00 -0500

Looking forward to doing this again this summer, but over a few days and car camping.

Clean-up Time

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 19:06:40 -0500

A slight jolt. A sharp twist. A sudden scratch. And I was in. Light sliced into my eyes as I stepped into the room cautiously… corpses. Two rigid bodies folded in their chairs, and another glared passively from the floor. A trail of crumbs led to a stiff man, presumably the butler, Ken.

The dark hall pressed itself upon me as I inched toward the stairs. Daylight pierced through heavy curtains on the second floor. Just one door remained closed. A slight jolt. A sharp twist. A sudden scratch. And I was in. Faint light from the hallway illuminated glassy eyes. Their gaze fixed upon mine. Scarlet streams ran down its face. A teddy bear lay next to the figure accompanied by an overturned tea set.

Trying to stay calm, I made my way to the bathroom. Dank air pressed into me as I opened the door. I felt clothes on the floor. I flipped the switch. “Molly” had been written on the mirror in red. The markings on the wall were the same color but seemed more sporadic. I raised my hands to my face.

Oh the joys of raising a two year old.

"You are not IN the universe, you ARE the universe, an intrinsic part of it. Ultimately you are not a..."

Thu, 03 Jan 2013 18:48:13 -0500

“You are not IN the universe, you ARE the universe, an intrinsic part of it. Ultimately you are not a person, but a focal point where the universe is becoming conscious of itself. What an amazing miracle.”

- Eckhart Tolle (via we-are-star-stuff)

"I’m not sentimental—I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the..."

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 22:42:51 -0500

“I’m not sentimental—I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know,
is that the sentimental person thinks things will last—the romantic
person has a desperate confidence that they won’t.”

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

Photo

Sun, 30 Dec 2012 18:36:56 -0500

Photo

Sun, 30 Dec 2012 18:35:44 -0500

Trees Hall with the City of Pittsburgh in the background. Home...

Thu, 13 Dec 2012 11:33:00 -0500

Trees Hall with the City of Pittsburgh in the background.
Home of Pitt Swimming and Diving.
I live here 7 hours a day.
I took this with my iPhone4S.

Photo

Wed, 12 Dec 2012 00:06:12 -0500

home sweet home

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 16:23:35 -0500

home sweet home

Facile Delectations I hold a stomach full of strain from...

Sun, 21 Oct 2012 17:05:00 -0400

Facile Delectations

I hold a stomach full of strain
from delectations fueled in vain.

It’s college.
Have fun.
You’re supposed to be like this while you’re young,

So why does this high life leave me so low,
waking up in the morning with everything to show.

These pleasures are facile, yet we all want this:
To train the vines of our affection on wholesome bliss.

I own this contempt, but in time it will go,
From my frost bitten roots, with the melting of the snow.

Bring forth the growth and build for the years: Train the vines...

Sun, 16 Sep 2012 18:15:00 -0400

Bring forth the growth and build for the years:
Train the vines of your desires onto the edge of your fears.
Don’t succumb to the safeties of what has just past:
What you’ve garnered in memories…
what you hold as last.

12,000 ft, Loch Lomond, Colorado

Cathedral of Learning

Sat, 15 Sep 2012 19:24:00 -0400

Cathedral of Learning

Rooftop sunset on the Pittsburgh Skyline

Sat, 15 Sep 2012 19:23:00 -0400

Rooftop sunset on the Pittsburgh Skyline

Days full of apathy, are days spent in atrophy.

Thu, 16 Aug 2012 17:17:00 -0400

Days full of apathy, are days spent in atrophy.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored...

Mon, 06 Aug 2012 16:10:43 -0400

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.