Maybe Tomorrow

I was thinking about wandering off into the desert this weekend. Now, this may sound strange to you, especially if you are not the kind of person that lives in a desert already or are not the kind of person who might wander into hostile terrain as a general course of action. Allow me to explain this desire to you, with the self-assurance and the cocky swagger of the truly intoxicated. But first, I have to change this song, because fuck, if you haven't listened to "Never Hear Surf Music Again" by Free Blood, the first two minute are amazing and the last four minutes fill me with a rage I would have not have thought possible, until this moment of my life. It's like having sex with the hottest woman in the world (I guess that's Jennifer Lopez, according to these guys?), only for her to turn into some sort of freakishly ugly shapeshifter two minutes into the act. Or something. I don't know. Look, the metaphor isn't perfect. Let's just fucking move on.

It's Kind Of Like This

I was on my way home from work when the thought came to me. I was flying along down Silverbell Road astride my bike, with the setting sun on my left and nary a car in sight in either direction. The road unwound in front of me like an asphalt ribbon and the desert around me was a brown-and-green blur of sharp rocks and sharper plants. It was a moment that makes you stop and think (not literally, of course, you and your bike keep doing your thing, together) but all the same, I thought about how to explain what it feels like, how I might describe the moment to somebody that's never had it.

I couldn't do it. Or maybe I could do it, but I think that there's somebody who already did, and better than I ever could. Regardless, I think there's too much of me in this blog (which is to say 100%) and so I wanted to take this time to share a little piece of writing that I found, that very much describes what it feels like to ride through such a moment.

The excerpt after the break.

In Which Much Is Revealed

Not for the first time, I'm rethinking my decision to purchase a desktop to replace my much beloved and sorely missed laptop. At the time, it seemed like a prudent decision and for the most part, I have been pleased with my choice. However, there are certain nights, nights such as this one whereupon I regret my decision. I regret that I cannot sit out on the porch of my apartment, illuminated only by the warm glow of a laptop monitor and the small cherry of a wood-tipped cigar and write in the proper form and fashion, the tradition, if you will, of Hemingway and Alger, a tradition and a mystique that has long since faded from the world. Simply put, we're all nerds now, without the style and sophistication of those who came before us. We play at profundity, but cannot hope to understand it, because we've had it good for so very, very long.

One Hundred

This is the 100th post on ALKM.

It's hard coming back to it. It's hard when I try to remember what it felt like, before the long silence. For months now, I have had the desire to work, but not the motivation or the means. Perhaps the desire is not pure enough? Not honest enough? Or perhaps the desire to work is subservient to the will to do so and the fact is, the will is a magnificent machine so easily corrupted by fear or sloth or perfectionism.

Perhaps it is a mistake to consider these things as separate sins. Perhaps they are brethren, each one leading into the other, each one feeding the next, an ouroboros for our modern age.

Nox

On Tuesday, concerned that my cat was ill, I took her to an emergency veterinarian around midnight. When we got there, though, she seemed okay and we ended up bringing her home.

Except that, over the next few days, she didn't seem to be getting better. So we scheduled an appointment with another vet, figured we'd get all the tests and such done, find out what was wrong, and everything would be okay. We made an appointment for early this morning, around 8 AM.

In three hours, I would learn that my beloved kitty was in dire condition. I would learn that her kidneys were failing her due to a blockage in her bladder. I would learn that the surgery that could have saved her would do nothing for the kidney damage. That things were already too far gone.