I have not yet learned to sleep through the call to prayer. It carries over the rooftops, ten thousand loudspeakers just out of sync, a monophonic rondo that sweeps me into the seventh century. The call is both far and close; it is, like the Southern Cross, a whisper from another time. But no one [...]
Posts Tagged ‘zeitgeist’
He appeared one day smack in the middle of the living room, and let me just say this: if it had been your apartment, your eyes he looked into as he twitched his adorable little whiskers, you would have adopted him, too. But Katherine was disgusted with me. “Kill it!” she shrieked the instant she [...]
I have not been able to write. Not to any effect. I have ideas, ideas are never the problem. Rather, ideas are exactly the problem: they keep me awake at night, sabotage my attempts to capture them, rebel against me on the page. So I cut them into pieces, all of them, of random length. [...]
I met Pound on the bench where I eat lunch, on the plaza that connects my office tower to three others. Nothing on that plaza is accidental other than my encounter with Pound. Pound wore a hoodie that day. No one wears a hoodie in the telecom district–no one who eats lunch on the plaza. [...]
Happy New Year. Have you ever felt like you were being asked to make decisions about your future with no information you trusted and no idea what your future self would want?
The decade has changed us. We walk, run, ride the bus or subway just staring into space. Our earplugs, neatly fitted to contain us, sing us songs we know by heart. Back home, back online, we flip through the avatars of people we scarcely know, and those of our closest friends, as if it were [...]
What a decade. I am going to be spending New Year’s Eve holed up at home, I think, trying to figure out just what happened these past ten years. Have you ever realized something that seemed pessimistic, except that it made you a better person?
I have seen you many times. You are the one who held eye contact with me as the elevator closed, who mouthed a word I could not read through the window of a bus, who dared me to approach from behind your fortress and your sentinels of friends. These encounters, and even the glimpses of [...]