Twentysomething

Some photos were saved!  Most of them were ruined from a crappy developer, but thank goodness for my absent-mindedness.. I had forgotten some rolls in my bag.. will be posting more on Flickr soon.

The place is too steeped in college memories – and I was too uncreative to break out of that.  Where I graffitied with Bingo. Where I smoked with the kids. Where I talked with Joe the jazz bum. Where I sketched, read, studied, learned, played, and rowdied.

Love may have selfish origins, but it can't survive if there's no object.  If the object is the self, then it's like (dare I use this trite analogy) a fire without air.. it'll suffocate.

Since I'm still technically living out of a backpack, I really haven't settled down yet.  When I was on the road, I kept saying that I'll cook more when I have a place of my own .. since that schedule as been pushed back a

And like tired sadhus under the bodhi tree, we scrambled passed past present future to that jibber-jabber, frightening, and gorgeous hollow where understanding came through silence and strings became waves...

Why do people congregate? And what happens after when they do?  There's got to be a simpler way of connecting, staying connected, and still be in real life.