Boredom Diaries


It would have been nice to watch MTV’s Headbanger’s Ball in our living room. My parents had been doing pretty well, financially, in 1988. Having bought a pretty large TV to preoccupy the time my brother and I spent at home, waiting for them to get off of work. And although my brother was five… Continue reading

Postcards from a Memory Palace

Three parallel, personal experiences are what have brought you here. In late September, 2019, I received a text message really early in the morning. The gist: ‘I don’t tell friends and family often enough that I’m thinking about them.’ The message really hit home, so much so that it made me feel a sense of… Continue reading


Walk with Me… …while I wait in line at the SFO airport. What do you get when you reserve a rental car from the cheapest vendor available? We wait in line for two hours while folks with reservations haggle over rental options, and those potential clients devoid of due diligence, argue, some sob, finding out… Continue reading

The Doll

Today. A postcard was all it took. A postcard and a thirty-five cent stamp. And an apology. Written in any type of script of her choosing. In blue ink, in black ink, or even in red ink. All she had to do was say ‘I’m sorry for what I said.’ It had helped so many… Continue reading

A Primitive Paradox

One Taking two steps up a pair of offset cinder blocks, I crept behind the cheap, pink, plastic shower curtain, cordoning off an open air toilet, raised, just high enough, so the shit and piss could drain into somewhere out of sight. Twenty four hours into Mexico, the only object witnessed marking manufacturing ties to… Continue reading

The Story I tell the Least.

I. Mother Brain I sat on the edge of Craig’s bed, legs dangling off the edge. It was a single. Narrow. Just five feet away from Alan’s. Another single, pushed against the far wall. Craig was 12. Old enough to cruise the neighborhood at all hours on his bike. Alan was 17. Old enough to… Continue reading

Memory Believes Before Knowing Remembers.

‘Memory believes before knowing remembers.’ -William Faulkner The pine woods surrounded us. The thin, dark green spikes offered shade at a bare minimum. It smelled like Christmas, partially comforting, when you didn’t whiff someone else’s acrid sweat stink. When you didn’t intermittently smell the surfactant, decomposing shit, creeping slowly into the air through the half… Continue reading

The Cut Up Truth About Sex.

Entry #10 The Cut Up Truth About Sex. I remember biting on her ear I had the whole thing in my mouth and what we had was a failing to communicate because the practice of talking and not saying anything became synonymous with the chaos and confusion of sexuality. They tell you what you want… Continue reading

The Boredom Diaries: Reanimated.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve conjured an unsolicited narrative. Simply put, I just lost the inspiration to write. There was no definitive reason. Being busy, maybe? I read enough, outside ideas flowing in and out daily. This is what I have always used as a previous catalyst. I’ve been traveling enough. A sight…. Continue reading

Being Maiden America

There are few trips I’ve not wanted to see come to an end. Especially long ones. But there was something about these nine days on the road that made this one in particular much different. The players involved? The modus operandi? The scenery? The mutual, unusual experiences shared by the lot that tightened bonds of… Continue reading

Architecture Of A Cult.

Scene One: Winter, 2011. It was winter. The sun was setting earlier on those days. The orange light dull, dipping west, barely illuminating the intersections. Pedaling through downtown, we were stopped by a passing couple. A young man. A young woman. Both no older than twenty. The devotees seemed to travel in two’s, always a… Continue reading

Gator Totem.

Bruce Chatwin was haunted by what was in his mother’s curio cabinet. Behind the glass was a hunk of skin, with a tuft of orange fur sprouting off like a chia head. When young, he seemed certain that is was a chunk of a monster. Many years later, he’d discover it was actually a piece… Continue reading