In other news, this evening I've put the Sam Cooke on loud, made grilled cheeses and the best chicken noodle soup I've tasted in a long while, downed a couple of glasses of wine, rolled a couple of cigarettes, and am on my way to finish reading through Diderot (finally).
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I was born by the river in a little tent, and just like the river I've been running ever since.
I received a surprising telephone call yesterday. It was from my brother, concerning my father. He's dying apparently. Tumor. Brain. A case of bad luck and genetics. He wants me to fly back to Seattle to see him. I haven't seen or communicated with my father in twelve years, since I was fourteen. I don't know whether I want to start again now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
wow - hope you figure out what to do - sometimes nothing is the best way to do - don´t pay to much attention to my comment - because to be honest your post made me kind of mute - i just wanted to say hi.
Sometimes it's just nice to say hello . . . just as nice as it is to hear someone say it. Anyways, thanks for stopping by-
Post a Comment