just another collection of thoughts,
collecting dust in o u t e r s p a c e

March 29th 2014 | 0 notes

"You are always in danger in the forest, where no people are. Step between the portals of the great pines where the shaggy branches tangle about you, trapping the unwary traveler in nets as if the vegetation itself were in plot with the wolves who live there, as though the wicked trees go fishing on behalf of their friends—step between the gateposts of the forest with the great trepidation and infinite precautions, for if you stray from the path for one instant, the wolves will eat you. They are grey as famine, they are as unkind as plague."

Angela Carter "The Company of Wolves"

February 18th 2014 | 3 notes

February 11th 2014 | 0 notes

Paint me as a villain.

January 21st 2014 | 1 note
November 30th 2013 | 0 notes

Wednesday night just filled up for you.

My film BLACK SUN, RED SKY is screening at the ACTC Film Fest, along with 15 other great shorts. Wednesday 11/13, Saint Anthony Main, 7PM.


Wednesday night just filled up for you.

My film BLACK SUN, RED SKY is screening at the ACTC Film Fest, along with 15 other great shorts. Wednesday 11/13, Saint Anthony Main, 7PM.

November 12th 2013 | 3 notes

sometimes, in the depths of night, i think about the process of falling asleep, and how hard it is for me.

sometimes i wish i could just wake up the next morning, bypassing the process, not knowing how i came to be there, and how long it took me to drift away.

into the night.

November 12th 2013 | 0 notes

[draft one][prelude companion to Black Sun, Red Sky that i wrote and am in the process of revising]

What The Black Dunes Told Me 

We weren’t always like this.  At one point, we were kids—maybe fourteen, or fifteen—and we did whatever we damn well pleased.  This included staying out all night, riding our bikes into and past the curfews our parents set; lighting an ant colony on fire with matches we stole from the Kowalski’s off of Old Hudson; bashing in any mailbox that had the little red flag raised.  At the time, I think that we saw it as our job to destroy anything and everything around us, in whatever way we saw fit.

So here I sit, thinking: “we weren’t always like this.”  Once, we were in constant motion; free.  So free, in fact, that we didn’t have the time to think about consequences, what our folks and teachers would say, or even what our actions would do to us as young boys.  In the daytime, I would lace up my Adidas’ and hop on my BMX to my best friend Terrence’s house.

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November 7th 2013 | 3 notes

I hope life on earth is everything you remember it to be.

November 3rd 2013 | 0 notes

But it was a broken cycle, a broken cycle

October 21st 2013 | 0 notes

"He that loseth his soul shall find it." But what always preserves this thought from banality — from the mere tiresomeness of those precepts which everyone knows he ought to observe but doesn’t — is that this is a saying which no one can observe. For so long as there is something which I can do about it, I am not yet dead; I have not yet completely lost my life. Yet this is not the simple absurdity of a command impossible to to obey. It is a real communication, a description of something which happens to people — like the rain, or the touch of the wind. It is simply the expression of the universal discovery that a man does not really begin to be alive until he has lost himself, until he has released the anxious grasp which he normally holds upon his life, his property, his reputation and position…


October 9th 2013 | 5 notes

without a glow

Endlessly running
Careening through the trees
This inherited disease
Provokes an ire in me

A fissure ever crumbling
Do I go down with it
This forest is a fortress
Do I lose myself in it

Each scene births a scene the same
Behind me the phantoms
Whisper my name, and
The moon; tonight, my friend

You escape me
When the night lacks you
This realm is clouded
Along with my intention

My humanity escapes me
Bury me under the weight of the world

October 7th 2013 | 2 notes