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Star Zissou

Deep Thoughts from the Parking Lot

Deep Thoughts from the Parking Lot

Every person that I know tries to hold their self up in some way that has relevance to how they apply their life to their job. It's not me. I don't want the borders of my definition to cease inside of my employment. It's much more than that.

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108 Years: An Informal Letter to Chicago

108 Years: An Informal Letter to Chicago

It’s seven PM on a Thursday. I’m sitting inside of my Chandler abode while staring out the window at some much needed rain. I should head to the gym to climb, but I’m sixty five percent sure that a bone in my right foot is broken.

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Insomnia

Insomnia

Sometimes he didn’t even want to write, even though thoughts were bursting out at a speed unfathomed. The crippling depression was enough to keep his creativity in stasis. His dreams were a cruel taunt of promising connection.

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True Love

True Love

There is an orangish tint across the street that I keep leaning over to stare at. It focuses on four apartment windows in particular. It’s a wonder that these tenants even sleep. Perhaps it is the living room and not the bedroom that the light peers into.

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Growing Older

Growing Older

I wish there was that quiet place on the edge of the patio that still coddled my innocent thoughts. I wish there was still a ghost in my dreams waiting for me to save it.

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A Night of the Approaching Mourning

A Night of the Approaching Mourning

I am sitting in front of this damn computer with a barren mind. I need a shot, hold on…that didn’t go down gracefully. I set the highball back down on the marble and watch the remnants of my shooting failure settle at the bottom.

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Escape from Meteora Prison

Escape from Meteora Prison

I escaped a year ago today–too nervous to tell my tale, too embarrassed. The prisons of Meteora are well known as hell on earth. The atrocities committed there over its fifty-year history are too numerous to count.

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Too Many Thoughts to Write

Too Many Thoughts to Write

I can’t quite figure it out. I sit here with hundreds of ideas running through my head. Yet, not one can yield a concise thought that translates well to paper.

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Drunk Texting under a Crescent Moon

Drunk Texting under a Crescent Moon

On a bubbly summer evening, atop a terraced building, out on the corner of Madison Street and Michigan Avenue, three women sip drinks, and gossip on about dear friends—old and new. The fading sun warmly casts skyscraper shadows over them and across Grant Park. The video screens of the Crown Fountain begin fluoresce in the early twilight while amused children contort their faces one last time in the reflective Cloud Gate sculpture.

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Much Ado About Nothing

William Shakespeare

MSNBC.com is reporting that a South African anthropologist wants permission to examine the body of William Shakespeare to find out if he smoked marijuana–and what’s his reason, to label him a Pothead?

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Warrantless Phone Searches

Film Cameras vs. DSLRs vs. Smartphones

In January of 2011, the California Supreme Court ruled that if you are arrested, police could search the contents of your phone. The fourth amendment was irrelevant citing US Supreme court precedents.

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The End is Nigh!

The Rapture

I have learned a few things today from the sober folks over at ebiblefellowship.com. One is that Mother Planet was born in 11013 BC.

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