I wonder if I have time for reading, when I should be writing, or working, or working at writing.
I read your piece today, and I feel less guilty about reading.
I love your relationship with words.
I have a relationship with words.
I think words may be cheating on both of us.
I have the sense that words is not just cheating, but enjoying our conflicted emotions.
I am having my first chemo and radiation treatment today.
I never thought I would have cancer, but there you have it. Note to Mick Jagger: Sometimes you don’t get what you want.
I had a Mother. She is gone now. She had dementia for many years.
I wonder what went in in her mind, especially toward the end, but also at the middle and at the beginning. She said many times that she never wanted to get cancer, because she had such a tiny head. She was afraid she would never find the right wig to fit her tiny head.
I have 35 days of treatments coming up. Today is day one.
I was told that the cancer would all be gone after the treatments.
I believe everything you say when it is good news.
I am sceptical about all bad news.
I think artificial intelligence is not as dangerous as ignorance.
I had two seven minute eggs this morning when I normally have one.
I can’t remember if eating eggs is good or bad.
I remember the days I had a heart attack, like it was yesterday, even though it was sixteen years ago.
I will call a friend today that I have not spoken with for a long time. Our relationship is complicated. He once told me that he didn’t have time for my “ half songs”. Yesterday, we recorded five of my half songs. They are now almost complete songs. Once you hear them, they will be complete.
I have many things that I still want to do.
I have more books that I haven’t read, than books that I have read. Autocorrect writes the best jokes. Autocorrect though I meant pjs when I said books. What does autocorrect know that I don’t know.
I have been writing for years, and making music. Recently I have been writing about Lump, and my journey in Cancerland. It is a comedy and a drama. I look forward to looking back on it fondly.
I know that ending a sentence with an adverb is wrong, but there are so many other things that are more wrong in this world.
I especially like your tasteful reminder stirred into the middle of this post. I do, I really like it:
"There are three buttons at the bottom of every post” “like,” “share,” and “comment.” When you engage, it helps bring attention to the stack, and I love reading your comments."
“Under his influence, I began dropping conjunctions other than and. And makes things fatter and juicier. And is for a writer who has no stories about enlightenment, recovery, or conversion.”
I started reading Laurie And I started taking everything personal bc I saw Her write about it And I decided to make the world my therapist And I have had a lot and I have had very little And I have had them both multiple times And I never let insults slide And I never gave up And I can take an immeasurable amount of crap And wake up the next day And center my thoughts for what matters And be ceaseless
Last Friday I went to a pharmacy to pick up a prescription. There was a very long line so I asked the woman ahead of me if I was standing in the right place. Yes, and then she explained how the line worked. We began a chat.
She said when she exercises in the gym she makes up stories about the other people she sees around her.
Are you a writer? I asked.
Yes.
I asked her if she had written a book.
Yes.
I asked her name and Googled it on my iPhone.
I read her book titles on Amazon out loud.
She nodded and smiled.
The next day I researched the name she had given me.
I saw a photograph of the writer she said she was. This woman writer had purple streaks in her hair, was 20 years younger, and lived in the Midwest.
The woman I met in line did not have purple streaks in her hair and was 20 years older than the writer in the online photograph.
I don’t know where the woman I met in line lives, but we met in Northern California.
I concluded that woman I met in line
was not
the writer I saw online.
Should I have intuited when she said “I make up stories about the people I see in the gym...”
I am really enjoying your writing and will at some point upgrade. (I’m just pacing myself financially, dental whatnot.) You have a writing-based relationship; mine is plant-based. (Although I sometimes write, just not during heavy gardening times.)
I like to save your writing and review more carefully when I have leisure time. Which is to say, There’s a lot there.
Obviously a troubled but brilliant soul. I’ve known several people who committed suicide or come near, so the subject fascinates and terrifies me. I’m not sure how much better I want to know Édouard Levé. Your introduction was very well done but maybe enough.
oh laurie, this was so pleasurable to read, even tho i have no time, i kept reading on and on. i wanted to highlight so many gems, but could not in this form. if i could in the comments, i'd just paste a copy of your post in a word doc and yellow highlight all the wonderful sections. i loved what you said about meeting strangers who seem like you know them, what richard said about monkeys, the gradation of your reaction to the young woman who didn't want children, so many other lines. would love to see what richard wrote to this prompt. and am going to save it for myself. xc
I really like this. I remember you telling me about Édouard Levé- and looking for his book SUICIDE-- which I read and loved. It inspired me to write a piece about my father in the second person-- not exactly in the style of Levé, because it was more paragraphs than sentences. But still the impulse.
And now this makes me want to read SUICIDE again- and, of course, keep reading you.
I wonder if I have time for reading, when I should be writing, or working, or working at writing.
I read your piece today, and I feel less guilty about reading.
I love your relationship with words.
I have a relationship with words.
I think words may be cheating on both of us.
I have the sense that words is not just cheating, but enjoying our conflicted emotions.
I am having my first chemo and radiation treatment today.
I never thought I would have cancer, but there you have it. Note to Mick Jagger: Sometimes you don’t get what you want.
I had a Mother. She is gone now. She had dementia for many years.
I wonder what went in in her mind, especially toward the end, but also at the middle and at the beginning. She said many times that she never wanted to get cancer, because she had such a tiny head. She was afraid she would never find the right wig to fit her tiny head.
I have 35 days of treatments coming up. Today is day one.
I was told that the cancer would all be gone after the treatments.
I believe everything you say when it is good news.
I am sceptical about all bad news.
I think artificial intelligence is not as dangerous as ignorance.
I had two seven minute eggs this morning when I normally have one.
I can’t remember if eating eggs is good or bad.
I remember the days I had a heart attack, like it was yesterday, even though it was sixteen years ago.
I will call a friend today that I have not spoken with for a long time. Our relationship is complicated. He once told me that he didn’t have time for my “ half songs”. Yesterday, we recorded five of my half songs. They are now almost complete songs. Once you hear them, they will be complete.
I have many things that I still want to do.
I have more books that I haven’t read, than books that I have read. Autocorrect writes the best jokes. Autocorrect though I meant pjs when I said books. What does autocorrect know that I don’t know.
I have my own Substack called THIS IS NOT MUSIC! Densemilt.substack.com
I have been writing for years, and making music. Recently I have been writing about Lump, and my journey in Cancerland. It is a comedy and a drama. I look forward to looking back on it fondly.
I know that ending a sentence with an adverb is wrong, but there are so many other things that are more wrong in this world.
I think Everything Is Personal.
I especially like your tasteful reminder stirred into the middle of this post. I do, I really like it:
"There are three buttons at the bottom of every post” “like,” “share,” and “comment.” When you engage, it helps bring attention to the stack, and I love reading your comments."
“Under his influence, I began dropping conjunctions other than and. And makes things fatter and juicier. And is for a writer who has no stories about enlightenment, recovery, or conversion.”
I started reading Laurie And I started taking everything personal bc I saw Her write about it And I decided to make the world my therapist And I have had a lot and I have had very little And I have had them both multiple times And I never let insults slide And I never gave up And I can take an immeasurable amount of crap And wake up the next day And center my thoughts for what matters And be ceaseless
“When I meet someone, I feel I know them.”
--Laurie Stone
Last Friday I went to a pharmacy to pick up a prescription. There was a very long line so I asked the woman ahead of me if I was standing in the right place. Yes, and then she explained how the line worked. We began a chat.
She said when she exercises in the gym she makes up stories about the other people she sees around her.
Are you a writer? I asked.
Yes.
I asked her if she had written a book.
Yes.
I asked her name and Googled it on my iPhone.
I read her book titles on Amazon out loud.
She nodded and smiled.
The next day I researched the name she had given me.
I saw a photograph of the writer she said she was. This woman writer had purple streaks in her hair, was 20 years younger, and lived in the Midwest.
The woman I met in line did not have purple streaks in her hair and was 20 years older than the writer in the online photograph.
I don’t know where the woman I met in line lives, but we met in Northern California.
I concluded that woman I met in line
was not
the writer I saw online.
Should I have intuited when she said “I make up stories about the people I see in the gym...”
that she was making up a story about herself?
---
I have been described as naive and gullible.
After this incident, I don’t know if
I can ever believe anything
a stranger tells me.
Or if
I can ever believe anything
a person I supposedly know tells me.
Reading you I’m a kid at carnival.
A story about falling.
I fell on the street and people rushed up to see if I was all right.
I was laughing hysterically and could hardly get the words out.
"I... slipped... on a banana peel!"
It was so funny, even though I'd hurt myself. I could see the joke--I WAS the joke, in that moment.
There is never a day that I’m so busy that my time would have been better spent not reading your words.
I am really enjoying your writing and will at some point upgrade. (I’m just pacing myself financially, dental whatnot.) You have a writing-based relationship; mine is plant-based. (Although I sometimes write, just not during heavy gardening times.)
I like to save your writing and review more carefully when I have leisure time. Which is to say, There’s a lot there.
Obviously a troubled but brilliant soul. I’ve known several people who committed suicide or come near, so the subject fascinates and terrifies me. I’m not sure how much better I want to know Édouard Levé. Your introduction was very well done but maybe enough.
not yet- but now I will!
oh laurie, this was so pleasurable to read, even tho i have no time, i kept reading on and on. i wanted to highlight so many gems, but could not in this form. if i could in the comments, i'd just paste a copy of your post in a word doc and yellow highlight all the wonderful sections. i loved what you said about meeting strangers who seem like you know them, what richard said about monkeys, the gradation of your reaction to the young woman who didn't want children, so many other lines. would love to see what richard wrote to this prompt. and am going to save it for myself. xc
I really like this. I remember you telling me about Édouard Levé- and looking for his book SUICIDE-- which I read and loved. It inspired me to write a piece about my father in the second person-- not exactly in the style of Levé, because it was more paragraphs than sentences. But still the impulse.
And now this makes me want to read SUICIDE again- and, of course, keep reading you.