Hello everyone! So much thanks to those of you who have liked and followed my blog. Please keep leafing through the Falcon Post: the mighty bird has hopefully brought you much joy and wisdom. I’ll […]
My moment of impact this week occurred after watching The Truman Show for the second time in at least a decade. This moment, which is still unfolding, occurred as Jim Carrey delivers his Oscar-worthy performance as Truman Burbank having a nervous breakdown in the process of hunting for truth in an entirely fictitious world. The rolling waves and thundering night sky you see in the GIF there are man-made, the product of a television set that Truman doesn’t even know he was raised on.
We’ve all heard of the saying “Stop and smell the roses” but when was the last time you did that? When was the last time you were “living in the moment”? Don’t feel bad if […]
Collaging is one of the most subjective forms of art, a deeply psychological process, that is at once a conversation with the broader world, our “world of objects,” ridden with mysterious truths and insidious lies. […]
Originally posted on Consciousness creates reality:
We had to conceal our laughter as if we were children at midnight you could trip and fall face first down a dark—down a neon—chasm so hold on tight…
Forget love. When the schedule says it will be there at 5pm, it arrives when we’ve already decided that an hour was too long to wait, so we hail a taxi with a odorous, gentle, beastly, but unusually polite man shrouded in cigar smoke. Unknown to us, we will end up marrying and loving this man perhaps until the day we die and think: “What if I had waited ten more minutes?”
Maybe you do. Maybe you get on the train, full of expectations. Will today be the day that Robert finally stops taking all the credit around the office? Will the invigorating start of a new phase in your life build up to something beyond fantasy? Ecstasy, even?
Maybe the people at the office start to take notice. Maybe you feel just a little bit better about yourself. Maybe it lasts. Maybe it doesn’t.
Thank you for your interest in the University of Chicago. Unfortunately, we cannot extend an invitation for attendance this year…”
I stare at the screen while some Santa Cruz stoners blast Bob Dylan dubstep outside my window. My theater friend Katie, a spry optimist, thinks UC Santa Cruz is a hip place to be. Rebellious and deviant but laid back at the same time. All I see is laziness disguised with progressivism, lots of rich white stoner kids talking about how much they love Malcolm X. My classes have turned into reality television shows, people hanging on their seats while me and the potheads go at it. It used to be almost exciting.