made her feel very sleepy and stupid

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?” So she was considering, in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

"Alice In Wonderland," Lewis Carroll

[Thomas Street at Damen Avenue]

the old remembered pictures

Dreams in the dusk,
Only dreams closing the day
And with the day’s close going back
To the gray things, the dark things,
The far, deep things of dreamland.

Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,
Only the old remembered pictures
Of lost days when the day’s loss
Wrote in tears the heart’s loss.

Tears and loss and broken dreams
May find your heart at dusk.

"Dreams in the Dusk," Carl Sandburg

nothing is impossible

Today I ate a meal at a fancy restaurant. I like to do so that sometimes. It makes me feel like I'm part of the world. Makes me realize nothing is impossible.

"Notes From Underground," Eric Bogosian

[Damen Avenue above Haddon Street]

i scratch myself; i stop writing indefinitely; i lose my appetite;

Every time I read that someone has spoken badly of me, I begin to cry; I drag myself across the floor; I scratch myself; I stop writing indefinitely; I lose my appetite; I smoke less; I engage in sport; I go for walks on the edge of the sea—which, by the way, is less than 30 meters from my house—and I ask the seagulls, whose ancestors ate the fish who ate Ulysses: Why me? Why? I've done you no harm.

~ Roberto Bolaño

[Chicago Avenue at Damen Avenue]

a good cuppa

[Damen Avenue at Chicago Avenue]

gated

[East of Damen Avenue above Chicago Avenue]

i saw a man, he danced with his wife In chicago, chicago my home town

I do remember some things
times when I listened and heard
no one saying no, certain
miraculous provisions
of the much prayed for manna
and once a man, it was two
o’clock in the morning in
Pittsburgh, Kansas, I finally
coming home from the loveliest
drunk of them all, a train chugged,
goddamn, struggled across a
prairie intersection and
a man from the caboose real-
ly waved, honestly, and said,
and said something like my name.

"Manna," James Tate

moviegoer

Jacqueline Bisset signs a still from The Deep for a fan.

[Outside Ambassador East Hotel]

presage

illumine

puffed

authentic ripple

descent of the drowned body sinking backward

By falling asleep, I fall inside myself: from my exhaustion, from my boredom, from my exhausted pleasure or from my exhausting pain. I fall inside my own satiety as well as my own vacuity: I myself become the abyss and the plunge, the density of deep water and the descent of the drowned body sinking backward. I fall to where I am no longer separated from the world by a demarcation that still belongs to me all though my waking state and that I myself am, just as I am my skin and all my sense organs. I pass that line of distinction, I slip entire into the innermost and outermost part of myself, erasing the division between these two putative regions.

"The Fall of Sleep," Jean-Luc Nancy

[Damen Avenue above Haddon Street]