SOL: Ritorno

It was always me, haphazardly
Jumping flights to try on
A different life and you,
Waiting patiently in the
Driveway with your truck lights
Off for me to come home.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Only One of Us Changed.”


MIND: New Rich

I recently had lunch in San Francisco with a good friend and former college roommate. He will soon graduate from a top business school and return to investment banking. He hates coming home from the office at midnight but explained to me that if he works 80-hour weeks for nine years, he could become a managing director and make a cool $3–10 million per year. Then he would be successful.

“Dude, what on earth would you do with $3–10 million per year?” I asked.

His answer? “I would take a long trip to Thailand.”

4-Hour Work Week // Tim Ferriss

SOL: June

the gîte is claustrophobic. it became
unbearably hot in the last week and i’m
insatiably waiting for rain to come and
wash away the dirt on the windows and maybe
i’ll be ridiculous and
stand on the porch in the 3am rain
letting it saturate my pores and attempt to clear
away all the past resentments.
i felt so full of i-don’t-know-what energy that yesterday
i rode the bike into the middle of the forest and sat in
the midst of silence and tinkering animals until the moment was
perfect. then i screamed. from the hollows of my bones and out of my mouth
and my jaw hurt from how wide and bellowing the noise was.
i screamed and yelled like a vengeful medusa because i have
been keeping all my secrets and all their secrets and all his secrets and it
gets too much to bear sometimes.

afterwards i felt better and biked home, with no one but myself and the animals the wiser.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “No one likes to discuss the unbearable aspects of empathy.

MIND: Peripheral

I had been right, I was still right, I was always right.
I had lived my life one way and I could just as well have lived it another.
I had done this and I hadn’t done that.
I hadn’t done this thing but I had done another.

And so?

The Stranger // Albert Camus

MIND: Conformity

Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other.

We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of that musty old cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war.

We meet at the post office, and at the sociable, and at the fireside every night; we live thick and are in each other’s way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect for one another.

Walden // Henry David Thoreau

SOL: Terra Nova

Sinking my hands into
The bloody soil of
My country and searching in
Vain for roots, anything I can
Find to tie me to this place
Coming up with fistfuls of dirt and
Musty memories of past hurt, betrayals
Better left buried

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Homecoming.”