Sundgaard

I heard he’s a whore. Is it okay to write that down?

Tonight’s the sort of night that should result in a really good post. But it’s also the sort of night where you’re just too damn restless to actually write.

So this is what you get.

Tough shit.

Well, I was unprepared

Is it bad when the reason you can’t move in uncomfortable situations in your dreams is because you’re at attention in marching band?

We had just finished marching our Queen show at halftime of the last home Gopher football game of the year, and we were put at parade rest on the field, as there were announcements to be made by important people. It turns out those important people were people like the Obama family. And partway through his speech to the 50,000 people in the stadium, he announced that there would be a new VP. And that VP was going to be me. And the scoreboard screen showed my family sitting happily in the stands as everyone cheered. And I couldn’t move or object to this because I was in band, and was not allowed to move.

Everyone was talking about ‘the youngest vice-president in history’ but at the same time acting like it was normal. Suddenly there was media all over my family and I had people escorting me around places, yet nobody had bothered to ask me if this is what I wanted, or to acknowledge the fact that I had no idea how to be second in command of a country. Somehow this melted into scenes of a school, or a summer camp, some sort of art room, similar to a kindergarten classroom.

Talk about weird.

no time like the past

I’m past my prime. Apparently I was good at this in 2007. Nothing has been this good for a year.

time travel

I miss taking pictures. Real pictures.

for the birds

I’ll write something real soon. Until then, here’s this I just recovered.

Calling on the birds,
he is sick of competing
for the spotlight in disaster.
The night is young
but the panic sets in
as the shining parade of city lights
fades into memory.
Violins begin to broadcast
their concert from the stars.
He flees the screams of the atmosphere;
an abstract glow on the horizon.
Having consumed that sea of thought,
the melody subsides;
His simple solo of love
summons the winged whisper
of forever.