No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-09-04 - 6:46 p.m.

let's play pretend

let's play pretend for a moment, shall we.

let's pretend that i got more than three hours of sleep. somehow i was able to pretend just that. i'm tired as hell, but still functioning. i don't know how.

let's pretend that i don't hate my job. because somehow i had a pretty good day at work. i had to ride myself pretty hard to keep my focus (see the three hours of sleep thing), but i actually accomplished something worthwhile today and felt good about the accomplishment.

let's pretend that being stuck in traffic for over an hour didn't ruin my good mood. must be the exhaustion talking.

let's pretend i got home i time to work out before Portable Banquet. okay, let's not, because i didn't.

let's pretend i got a very nice email today from someone very cool. i've said it before, and i'll say it again. the sense of community on our beloved d-land is somehow a perpetual pleasant surprise for me.

one last thing, though this isn't pretend. driving home today, listening to npr, i heard the following quote from our newest poet laureate: "meeting the author is one of life's most consistently dissapointing experiences. because you've already met them under the best of circumstances, and that's on the page."

that about sums it up, don't it?

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