25 March 2006 00:40 -06:00 GMT

This is one of those blogs that is starting out without an aim of any kind. I know I'd like to write something, but what it will be is an unknown so far. Life is so rich, and sometimes the smallest events that are noticed only by oneself are delightful enough to record them. Once in a while big event hits, and a writing topic jumps out from that like a dancer from a cake. But today neither of those, the minute or the grand, are striking a tone that my muse is hearing.

But even just then, when the dancer jumped out of that cake, that turn of a phrase that comes from somewhere along the pathway of my brain and my fingertips - that's the delight of writing. (You used delight twice. Think about knocking that over the head with a Thesaurus, willya?) Then there's the self-censor, a demon, constantly issuing parenthetical whispers like that one. Away with you!

The end of Spring Break is here. Two days more of studying to catch up, and my break will be over. Earlier this past week I was going through some files to get documents I needed...another story...and I came across something I wrote about a dozen years ago, about some personal family events that took place in Austin, Texas. I read them, and I was enthralled with it, to a degree. I decided to transcribe them here, in installments. I got through three of them, which was about five pages of what I wrote back then. But then I came into some core stuff that really isn't fit to print. Maybe in a few decades, after...well...Not now. I might post some of the introductory writing, at the risk of leaving my five readers hanging, but that might be OK. Anyway, that was meant to satisfy this narcissistic blogging I do, but then it turned sour, and left me distinctly dissatisfied instead.

The thing is that I have fundamentally changed in the last 12 years, and the things I wrote, while true and sordid and revealing and gross, are expressed in ways that I wouldn't express them now. I could re-write them, but then it wouldn't be a true image, but a re-touched photograph, made glossy, beautiful, and without blemishes. It would be a lie.

Along the vein of raw writing, I learned that Abhishek Parmar, UASOM's beloved Shek, is a fan of Charles Bukowski, a Beat Generation writer from Los Angeles. Shek is only the second person from my generation (We're still the same generation aren't we?) that I've heard refer to Bukowski, and that made me happy. I knew there were undiscovered reasons why I liked Abhish. He also cited Amelie as a favorite movies, and his stock continued to soar. Love that movie. Maggie and I laughed, at that film, and when we visited Paris in '03, it made it that much more fun to enjoy Montmartre.

You can learn more about Abhish at his facepage site, or whatever it's called. Facebook, sorry. If you can find the page, you may find it to be one of the most interesting you'll ever see.