we're not kids anymore.
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Three Goblin Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
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dirt enthusiast
blake kathryn
AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
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tannertan36
almost home
Peter Solarz
will byers stan first human second
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@belakoe
Entry Three: New Memory Box +
I have a few long workdays; Tuesdays are one of them as I get off of work at five, walk the 2 miles to the campus where I teach part-time. It was a bit cold the other evening and oftentimes I wear sweatpants and a hoodie so I can hit the gym after class but knew I would be too tired. I brought a Diet Coke and a coffee into the classroom to help me over the final three hours of the workday. I was…
Entry Two: Dogs are Gonna Dog.
this is the second entry of my journal about my depression treatment. as a note: this will be now located at my substack: https://substack.com/home/post/p-157847516 Sunday & Monday: Entry #2 This morning the sun streamed through the windows, it soaked through the blankets that usually crawl up and around my head and although my eyes were closed, the feeling was nice that my distant cousin the…
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Watching the Wheels: A journal of depression treatment
At one point when I quit drinking, perhaps 30 days sober I asked my wife at the time, “when do you think I became an alcoholic?” This was something I felt I needed to know, as if there was some sort of time machine I could use and go back to that exact moment when something switched, and I could no longer drink alcohol like a normal person. There were several issues with this, the most obvious…
Boxes.
I saw myself in a corner, back turned to me hunched over a computer, headphones on with the light filling the room around me. My shadow casts behind where I sit on a tall wooden stool, stretching my form into something almost grotesque, comical and when someone walks by the shadows merged into something different, a new being. A monster, perhaps or maybe just a dark blob on the pale wooden floor.…
Christmas 2024. (for Jon Solomon's WPRB 25-Hour Holiday Show, thanks Jon.)
Every year Jon Solomon from Comedy Minus One Records and WPRB radio in Princeton, New Jersey plays holiday music/stories for 25 hours. Most years I write something and I need to thank Jon for getting it on as I turned it in just days before Christmas. I hope everyone a peaceful year, with lots of love, laughter and connection. We all need it. Christmas 2024. Fat snowflakes taking…
Runaround Sue circa 1977
This is a short excerpt from the book I have been working on for the past two years, extra special thanks to my editor Lisa Carver who has read every 75,000+ words and supplied me with suggestions, tweaks, edits and, most importantly, encouragement. Thanks Lisa. The book is about my mom but not about my mom, and is about me and not about me, about things that maybe existed and maybe didn’t. A…
Eaten By The Jaws Of Life
Eaten by the jaws of life. I quit drinking a long time ago, my sobriety now a full-fledged adult, a young adult at that. Perhaps, one day it will reach middle age as I am now. I will be an elderly man if that ever happens, in my seventies at least. Maybe eighty. Numbers were never my strong suit. Now a days, there are hours drinking coffee, I can drink coffee like I drank beer. For hours until…
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Eaten by the Jaws of Life: Coffee & Alcohol
Eaten by the jaws of life. I quit drinking a long time ago, my sobriety now a full-fledged adult, a young adult at that. Perhaps, one day it will reach middle age as I am now. I will be an elderly man if that ever happens, in my seventies at least. Maybe eighty. Numbers were never my strong suit. Now a days, there are hours drinking coffee, I can drink coffee like I drank beer. For hours until…
Eaten by the Jaws of Life: Coffee & Alcohol
Eaten by the jaws of life. I quit drinking a long time ago, my sobriety now a full-fledged adult, a young adult at that. Perhaps, one day it will reach middle age as I am now. I will be an elderly man if that ever happens, in my seventies at least. Maybe eighty. Numbers were never my strong suit. Now a days, there are hours drinking coffee, I can drink coffee like I drank beer. For hours until…
Hungarians, Venezuelans and Bat-Shit New Americans.
Warning: Some adult content, well, I suppose most of my writing is adult content. I have been thinking a great deal about my uncles Pablo and Pedro (Peter) lately as well as other deceased folks. I suppose this is a normal part of getting older. The memories don’t make me sad or nostalgic (except the ones about my mom and stepfather Steve), mostly they are funny memories. I have been writing for…
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Steve Albini: Records, Jerry Wick & Security
(all photos by the wonderful Jay Brown, check him out: https://www.jfotoman.com) I have a sanctuary. A place that protects me. Gives me solace. Security. Joy. It’s a sanctuary because it is sacred. My little secret but it isn’t a secret, it is everywhere, I think it is a secret because the relationship is intimate, it changes me, makes me feel whole or, perhaps at times, not as broken. If you…
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Steve, one year later. March 2024.
Watching scattering snowflakes from the passenger window, they swirled and looped, taking their own time to land. The dance they performed was a gleeful dance of teasing the brown dried husks of corn, bending down to touch them, then letting the wind carry them back up and around, a bait and switch that nature plays with itself. When they landed, we are already further down the state route,…
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Christmas 2023. (also on Jon Solomon's WPRB 25-Hour X-Mas Show)
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Puzzles--new writing.
So many puzzle pieces were scattered on the floor, on the dining room table, stacked on shelves haphazardly against dusty compact disks & half read books, in cardboard boxes that smelled of age and dampness, in plastic tubs filled to the top with even more pieces. They came in the form of conversations with siblings, with partners and family members that were disappearing like steam from a coffee…
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My Mother Dancing.
A green cover that had the look of a well-played record, the ring of the round discs on the outside of it looked like the small scars of age, the two enclosed vinyl records sounded as if they had been stored in a coal mine, the songs crackly, skippy and almost faded from too many plays, a sound version of Black Lung disease. The songs sounded different from what was usually on our turntable; Jim…
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FATHERS DAY/I CAN'T DRIVE 55 (years old).
She died 11 miles from her house, the week before she said she wanted to stay home as her children visited, her husband tending to her every need. Exhausted, Steve wasn’t sleeping much as he watched his wife slowly sink into her bed, her body twisting into itself as if were parchment paper tossed into a fire. Just a month before her death, Steve was diagnosed with liver cancer something he had…
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March 2023. For Steve.
March 2023. For Steve. Light. Everything was light that wasn’t coming from anywhere it was just everywhere, nothing could be seen except the light. Nothing could be felt except the light. She felt him there in the light, not physically she had nothing to physically touch him with, only the sense that he was there with her, behind her. She had waited for him, here wandering in the light as if…
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