sunrise vs sunset aka, santa claus isn't real

So a long time ago, I used to be all romantic about sunrises*
I was all "ooooh sunrises, I want to see one" and "oooooh,I bet they're so cool"
ok only one of those oooohs is real
This may have continued my entire life until one day I'd watch a sunrise for the first time with someone I was romantically involved** with and we'd fall in love and live happily ever after.
Except I have been robbed of that moment. A few years ago I was riding the greyhound across the US going to a summer program at Cornell and I had to stay up. I saw the sun rise. All I felt was tired and annoyed at the way it glared at my eyes.
All I thought was "this blows, sunrises are the same as sunsets, except backwards and from the opposite direction."

The moral of the story is that Santa clause isn't real. I bet he never was.


*I mean romantic in a romantic period of literature where nature is exalted, not romantic in a let's talk about sex bay-be, let's talk about you and me, kind of way.
**Let's talk about sex bay-be, let's talk abou you and me

15 minutes before work

I've got this theory (I've got lots, just ask me) that I fell down some rabbit hole some eighteen or so years ago, and none of this is real.

I read this story once about this girl who realized she was in a story and didn't want to move because she didn't want the story to progress because she knew what was going to happen. The story she happened to be a part of was the one about the guy and the hook on the door. And she knew that if she opened the door the hook would be there and the guy would kill her.

So suppose this is all in my head. or in yours. suppose you fell down some rabbit hole eighteen years ago. would you move? take the blue pill or the red pill? to make a choice. every moment. to move or stand still. keep reading, or stop.

we write because we can't help it

I was talking to a friend after a truly awe inspiring performance of "I killed my mother" at the greenhouse theater (it's still going on and you should go see it if you can). And while we said many profound things, because we're so deep and smart and young and stupid, the thing that stayed with me is the we have this intrinsic acceptance that we are writers. Even when we (I) deny it at every chance I (I mean we (I)) get. He said that he finally had to accept it when he realized it was the one thing he was really good at (or something like that). But I think we both know that we write because we can't help it. I've got a desk drawer full of napkins and half sheets and random blank spaces on scratch paper full of words and beginnings and endings. I might never do anything with them like expand them or look at them again but I have them. Because I can't help writing things down. I can't shut out the narrator in my head that likes to live in the in-between.

My name is allthein-between.blogspot.com and I am a writer.

Things my mother taught me

I got this text from a friend and I thought it was hilarious so here you go:
My mother Taught me
PERSEVERANCE- "Sigue chingando y veras como te va a ir"
she taught me
RELIGION- "Ay cabron, pidele a Dios que yo no te agarre"
she taught me
ANTICIPATION- "Deja que lleguemos a casa pinche chamaco"
She taught me about
ROOTS- "Malagradecido, cuando yo era chica, no tenia ni zapatos!"
She taught me
LOGIC- "Como que porque? Porque SI cabron!!!"
She taught me about
INSPIRATION- "Si llegas con malas calificaciones te voy a dar con la chancla, cabron asta que aprendas!"
She taught me about
WISDOM- "Tu crees que sabes todo, aprende a limpiar el culo primero y luego hablamos!"
She taught me about
FINANCE- " Me lovas a pagar cabron"