Tag Archives Denver

Gravity Fails

Posted on 1 min read

I’m at a coffee shop in RiNo. Looking up from my notebook I notice half the room is taking a picture. The room loses gravity. I’m slipping through the air. They’re not even here, these people who are more concerned with how they look than what they’re doing. It’s like some sick Instagram satire that I’m unwillingly a part of. I look left and right for the cameras. Come to Denver, take pictures, and then leave. Beyond the picture, it’s not clear why they wanted to be here in the first place. They don’t seem to realize that someday the servers will go down and whatever permanence it seems to …

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Dissolution of the Mirror

Posted on 1 min read

I’ve never been able to get used to a mirror. Some of my ex’s might scoff at that. But I’ve never been sure what I will see staring back at me. This is what I look like? I can never seem to remember. It’s a continual reacquaintance with a childhood friend, often older, sometimes younger, then I remember. Lately skinnier: the stress and Shigella induced dysentery from the trip to Peru have taken pounds off me, deepened my cheeks, thinned my face. It’s a fight to get it back. Now I feel, more than I have in a very long time, the urge to know the guy. This time I …

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Denver, Asylum

Posted on 1 min read

There’s comfort to being back in the regularity of Denver. I never thought that the job, the board meetings, and this city would be a comfort in my life. But that’s what it’s become. I don’t believe it’s the regularity of the days or the ease of the city. What I like are the people I see, and the way that I waste my days. …

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Balance It Out

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I feel like a man possessed. I find myself drifting back down 17th St. in Denver. A place I lived only briefly, but where I felt a rare connection in a city that has the depth of an also-ran Dubai. I write for hours in cafes and bars, and look back on what I’ve written with surprise and déjà vu. The writing is strange to me, but vaguely familiar. I must look borderline insane, my head resting on the back of my hand, inches from the paper. I drink coffee until I can feel my heartbeat in my eyeballs. And then I switch to beer to try and balance it …

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Like Prague in it’s Heyday

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I come home alone, by choice. We kissed as we said goodbye in the parking lot. She asked me to come back with her. Her brother watched from the window of her car as we stood out in the cold. I sit in the driver’s seat for a long pause, watch her car drive away, and then finally check my phone. There’s a line of text messages that I scroll through. A multitude of people, mostly women, had written. I had resisted the urge to check my phone during the concert. But she stood pressed against me, and felt the texts vibrate in my pocket with the same frequency that …

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Collections – Nowhere

Posted on 8 min read

Germany, Iceland, Denver, Boulder – 30 What magic there once was in Europe seems lost to me forever. Even Iceland is gray, miserable and suffocating. Physically, I’m depressed and grimy. My laptop was stolen in Amsterdam, but that happened a week ago, and I quickly moved passed it. An expensive mistake on my part, that’s all it seems like now. Instead, the malaise is a spread of realization. The time to play, and be happy, has passed. Now it’s seriousness in life, career, and the care for those around me. However, Europe had seemed to escape these symptoms of growing older. But now, practicality has made short work of the …

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