the real something: undead

nice camera!

around 5 pm. slc

you must stop for pints if you are to keep moving, touching, breathing the city. those drippy passer by's with smug want to get home looks on their jugs bump on by. your body's skin: a thin layer of dust and street obscenities. you aim, you take a soul just like that; just as a dump truck driver throws some mess into a gapping dark hole. both minds are clear of the destination marching forward with confident unspoken orders. milk man, bicycle commuter, photographer, deliverer of processed Japanese goods are there too.

fishing for dave

cemetery summer

for myself summer is nearly half over and i still have yet to camp. (unless you count the time at Alex's cabin, which wasn't really camping at all, so i won't count it. although, that was a darn fun time with plenty of booze and fun and conversation.) today i went to the cemetery and looked over the sea of chiseled cement. i took some photographs and thought about running through the sprinklers but then didn't. there where some fresh dug graves next to us sort of just sagging there. it reminded me of summer and how i'm not really doing any thing at all.
Travis tells me that he and Justin fell victim to theft. the bastards taking all of the electronics: both laptops, digital film camera... renters insurance, go figure. if your reading this Travis i'm making you up some mp3 discs RIGHT NOW. should be there in a few days.