Year: 2018

  • No Heat

    No Heat

    There’s no heat in my apartment. I’d take a picture to show you but every picture I take looks like my apartment when it’s warm. It could be romantic. Instead, it’s cold.

  • Dear Nash, 10 Years On

    Dear Nash, What’s left to say?

  • First read through the pre-first draft

    I’ve started reading through my Collection of Recollections, that long piece of writing that I’ve been pounding out on my typewriter over the last year. I’m only 20 pages in and it’s shit.

  • Rabbit hole

    For the last few days, I have been going down a rabbit hole, trying to figure out why this statement rings so true for me. It’s new-agey, almost cheesy, and it’s a misremembering of a quotation from a movie about yoga that I was watching while lying, paralyzed in bed by back pain. Help?

  • Is this ennui?

    As if disinteresting enough to be unmemorable, I always have to look up the definition of “ennui” when I think of the word. I like how the word sounds. It’s the “en”, that French “on”, that I find most attractive about the word. But, then, la langue de l’amour has always been attractive to me,…

  • Calgary, where 5°C feels like summer

    On New Year’s Day, -4ºC, my father walked down into the basement, which is my room, turned on the lights, and, in Katchi, softly said, “Aly. Aly, wake up slowly and take your mother to the hospital.” In Katchi, I replied, “Yeah, okay.”