Shame then fear then violence.
Or is it fear then shame then violence?
Either way, there is a lot of shame and fear in there.


Loose upon me your sorrow.

Once a day take a fifteen minute walk without your cell phone.

This was a funny one.  I couldn't (or can't) decide whether it should be:

When Was The Last Time You Said Yes,  I Mean Really Yes
or
You Know Your Breath Is Bad When You Can Smell It and Your Mouth is Closed

Think of me lightly.

Dear Kevin,
I got my dates mixed up.  I meant to post something for you on the twenty seventh, but thought the twenty seventh was the twenty second.  Seventh. Second.  You can see where I might've gotten tripped up.  It is now the twenty ninth, which is difficult to get mixed up with anything. I mean, the twenty ninth is the the twenty ninth, no doubt about it.
Sincerely, Todd

I still find the whole thing distasteful, which is stupid, really, since it's all in the past and blah blah blah. I mean really, can't I just take the meaning out of it like everyone else does?

Kevin used to make fun of me for the way I tend to leave big spaces in the middle of words in my handwriting.  And how I then tend to smoosh other words together while leaving single words dangling alone, taking up a whole line.  When does  word start?  When does a paragraph start?  Wait, is that a word?  I do similar things when I type.  I'll add th eending e of a word to the beginnin gof another word or I'll put a b ig un necessary  space bet ween letters.  It's just how my brain works.  I think my brain follows that same pattern in lots of other forums besides typing and handwriting.  I think my brain makes odd spaces between all sorts of other daily concepts as well, or adds little bits of one definition to the bits of other definitions.

Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom is the jaunty adventure into surreal sentimentality that perfectly encapsulates the cartoon emotions I feel all the time. Instead of pushing me away, holding my interaction with the film at arm's length, the idealized world he envisions brings me in, making me connect with the narrative, and myself, even more.

Oh, that old chestnut.