-
-
I read whatever people are saying when I happen to be looking at the timeline! I do keep track of certain people, by visiting their profiles, but I don't read through every single tweet my friends post. That would take a long time. I like the feeling of being connected to a vast network I can drop into whenever I want, and I like being accessible to them in return.
-
-
-
Honestly, I do not know. I hope so.
-
-
As you know, this means giving up half of what keeps me alive on a day-to-day basis, so allowing the world to live means killing a part of me. It's a very hard decision. Marisa has added other details: Other people can read books, but I can't talk to them about the books; other people can bike, but I literally do not see them biking.
I choose to give up biking. I haven't been reading as much lately—very very busy, inability to sit down and concentrate on a text I'm not proofing—but I cannot imagine a life without books in it. Physically, I wouldn't be as happy without biking, and I'd lose the meditation biking provides, but I'm sure I'd find another avenue. Without books, I wouldn't have an intellectual life. My mind would be dead, and I don't care about the world enough to kill off my whole mind. So books.
I hope I will be praised on a daily basis for giving up biking, because I love it. -
-
I grew up there—1991 to 1998, formative years—and didn't appreciate it at the time. Lived in a compound owned by an oil company on an oasis in the middle of the desert. Went to a school filled with kids from all around the world. Went on yearly trips to wherever we wanted, funded by the oil company. We left in 1998, shortly after terrorists bombed a building a mile away from my house. I started my sophomore year of high school in the U.S. in the fall of '98. I can't believe it's been 12 years.
-
Don't get an SE Draft! I have one and it's way too heavy and difficult to maneuver. You can do better.
-
Being hit by a van in 2006 changed me profoundly—not in a physical way, but in a psychological one. My injuries were minor, even though the van turned right into me and knocked me hard. I had a concussion. My head was torn up. And so on. But the experience drastically changed the way I saw my life in ways I didn't realize for awhile. I quit my dead-end job soon afterward, took up with a girl in a serious sense, got an internship at an awesome publisher, then found my way into advertising. My life is much different now, and being hit by a van was the kick in the ass I needed to get my life started.
-
-
-
Probably my sister, since I live with her.
-
Haha, I was trying to be creepy.
-
I like it when you giggle at me. It makes me feel niiiiceee.
-
An AK-47. Not too much kick, it's flexible and durable. Has a cool name.
I don't really want to shoot you in the face at all... -
Baberaham Lincoln.
Or John Updike, straight out of Harvard in the '60s. -
-
Feeling like I didn't fit anywhere. Feeling like a loser all the time. Being sad. Reading transgressive novels as an outlet for my angst.
-
A crankshaft mcgee.
-
Patrick Stephenson’s Bio
My name is Patrick.
