Days ago, I twirled the end of a pen against my chin wondering what my next tweet would be [Editor's note: That didn't happen.] when without any effort on the part of myself conjured up a way to keep me from wasting away my lazy and unmotivated urge to write stuff. And write stuff I might, now that I have found a pretty juvenile routine of writing that might have some lasting value in the long run. I call it my experimental life-long novel. Whether or not this concept has been done before doesn't so much concern me (as it probably has if Harold Bloom can attest to the matter but whatever). I like the idea it gives me of not being completely useless, having aspired to write most of my life and having nothing to show for it. It is my way of pretending I am actually getting something done in my laughable attempt to write.

One sentence per day. Until my dying breath.

Hardly unique. But it's doable. Most likely unpublishable, and something someone's Twitter would probably look like. I am content with just having something to show for my time while it lasts. And it's a little macabre too, which is always nice.

So after a brief moment, I arrived at the first sentence of the rest of my life:

"She sat by the curb in front of the driveway twirling her shoelaces with her index finger."
[Editor's note: This might be a bad idea.]

There was a moment at Day 3 of Anime Expo on Saturday, July 4th, when I found myself in front of a booth at the Exhibit Hall waiting to purchase a few particular items that caught my eye. The two young guys in front of me did nothing but chat up the cute young clerk for what seemed like five minutes. She seemed to engage in their conversation quite convincingly until she finally noticed me. The end of James Joyce's "Araby" suddenly permeated my thoughts as if what I had imagined of that scene just happened to me. Except my eyes didn't burn with anguish and anger over some disillusionment. If anything, I felt as out of place, out of time, and out of mind as a thirtysomething might feel amongst a throng of savvies.