What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

Tired of Titling

T

Unwanted simmering, from glam to endless glimmering sham sat before or behind a screen to move his fingers and play at worth, work, worm your way through the warmth of soggy sinless days, fraying, in fact the faces never turn that way, no more, but don’t flip out, don’t tumble or tunnel into this solid, stagnant soil, wait for fresher fields, found words as planter to give shelter and thus grow shy ideas from out of what only appears to be air, spare and spend, what’s the difference, what use, less than that obtuse reference yesterday, way above us and therefore below you, or at least your ability to make things mean, as for me, I’m seeing someone else everyday in the faces of those I’ve lived nearby so many times before, at least once, maybe twice, I’d like to splice myself into the space between the frames, cramming elbows into the corners and letting the talk line up with my rib cage, and gauging the interest level at this point, I should probably just stop mid-stumble, take my hand, put it through my hat and walk out…but I won’t, not yet, not set against everyone like this, as I am, so am I the little long-lost troll wearing a stole taking a stroll past the toll bridge, asking all and sundry, do you know where I can get a nice ice cream sundae, and no it doesn’t matter when in the week it’s here, peer the pear peeping at the cheese seeping porously with no foreknowledge, say, if I have any readers at this point still, I’ll whittle out a secret for you—sometimes in the dead of night I dream of zombies and I have a gun, but the bullets come out thin as pins and merely annoy the attackers, I wake up too late to not feel the teeth tearing my flesh, wake up, wake up, stupid, wake up feeling wan and flimsy, useless whimsy to think that I could ever…

________________________________________

Since I’ve gotten my phone—my Samsung Galaxy III…er, whatever…—I’ve spent a lot more free time on the internet, perhaps to the so-far silent chagrin of some friends and relatives. I try to be conscious about being rude by using my phone in social situations, but I’m not always good at noticing I’m in social situations, so I’m rude sometimes. On the other hand, the ever-presence of my internet-connected phone has allowed me to read articles, comics, blogs, etc. that I would have been interested in, but never would have had the time to read if I was forced to sit in front of a computer and connect to wifi (not to mention that my netbook is now much more book than net…like all the way book-shaped paperweight). So, for example, I’ve read The Writer’s Almanac every day for the past month or so; it’s a great resource and I’m glad it’s actually a part of my life now, instead of being the daily guilt-bane of my inbox. Here are some other articles  by George Dvorsky that I read recently, both about psychology, one of my consistent back-burner loves…hope you enjoy them:

“The 12 cognitive biases that prevent you from being rational”

“Scientific evidence that you probably don’t have free will”
A lonely ray of hope is all that you’ll need to see a beautiful history…
@c

Add comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

About Andrew.

Andrew Cartwright grew up in Indianapolis, IN, but has lived over the years in such places as Denver, CO; Fairfax, VA; and Rivne, Ukraine. He is a former nonfiction editor for both Indiana Review and phoebe; he has also worked for the intersectional feminist journal, So To Speak, and the national literary magazine, Electric Literature. His work has appeared in The Normal School Online, Copper Nickel, Esquire Ukraine, Literary Hub, and Word Riot.

For more information about me and links to other writing, visit my author page at cartwriter.com

Archives

Categories

Social

Instagram