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Moments

Always Tomorrow

Everything you can do now can’t be done later. We fight for control to pass time, but as singular objects in this space here and now, nothing is repeatable. Control, my ass. Passing the moment and investing in a single, volatile venture. It may mature or fold your account. Make the call and sell at the first profit. I win at scrabble. I do not know how to spell and my vocabulary, while improving, is of a fifteen-year-old Pre-iPad baby. The trick is to play what yo

zalpyalg001

2 days ago2 min read

Standard Margins

The expression of writing is lost to type. My laptop spews thoughts like a freight train, I cannot keep up. Mistakes dissolve and the margins make up their own mind. A new thought, how could I forget! Back back back, nobody knows. Forwards and backwards. Genius? Lost! I missed the train for an empty thought. Now I have nothing. I wait for the next train. I could have been halfway there, but now nowhere. Stupid train. Past fights now; nothing triumphs. I am los

zalpyalg001

Dec 112 min read

Good Bye, Ball

Golf is boring, and so are you. To the untrained eye, golf is as interesting as your high school paper on James Garfield's foreign policy. A dumb game for your dull brain. It is not two objects of chance fighting for victory, but man vs himself. He ignores his inherent imperfections, scoffing at God himself. There is a crisp thwack on contact, man to club, club to ball. In this moment he touches perfection and immortality. He is God. If you have never had this encounter, cont

zalpyalg001

Dec 73 min read

Munra

You will only find home a handful of times in your life, and mostly in the refuge of reminiscence. Home was in a black berry bush fort, where I stockpiled wild apples in case I must run away. It was in an empty classroom where I cried when I had nowhere else to go. It was in a lover, who kept me safe in this scary world. Further into my fundamentals, their role becomes clear. My path is lit as I run into darkness. We are molded by the fleeting past which determines our mind’s

zalpyalg001

Nov 242 min read

¡Qué Bonita!

The devil adores Love Island. The drama, the personalities, he simply can’t get enough. Individuals are of paramount importance, for the hierarchy of man starts with top and bottom. Characters are shuffled and stacked until everyone has lost their place and world revolves only in your direct proximity. The bottom falls to mediocrity, and the top goes straight to hell. Satan’s tail twitches in excitement. Unsanctioned pits of moral degradation fill lonely valleys with tainte

zalpyalg001

Nov 233 min read

A-Track

Where the tire meets trail is the edge. Mountain bikers crave success, the fine line between mediocracy and failure. Success in moderate proportions is considered mediocracy, looked down upon by all, and the enemy of a perfectionist. Failure is unfathomable. A mountain biker with moderate success does not clear jumps. They walk the bike down rocky sections. Never will they ride expert trails. On the other hand, failure can result in catastrophic injury. Success in this sport

zalpyalg001

Nov 142 min read

Run On

There is always tomorrow for dreams to come true, and I am a dreamer. Weeks fly by in a rapid succession, from longest to shortest. In that order. The illusion that the past reflects the future sways many to cherish tomorrow over today. Still, we must make a prediction as not to be petrified by the eternal mystery of tomorrow. We hold our nose to the grinder one week to ensure the mistakes of yesterday are not repeated, but this often results in the disfigurement of our faces

zalpyalg001

Nov 102 min read

March On Amigo

“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.” – An esteemed journalist and philosopher. I was in a dark place, ripped apart between my debilitating addiction to Pina Colada milkshakes and the rat race. Greed found me a job I hated, with people I despised, and a town I did not fit in. In Heber City, the Mormon stronghold of Utah, I lived in a cubical of sadness. I was a construction management bitch monkey, paid to dou

zalpyalg001

Nov 23 min read

Growing Pains

Respect the mountain. Not as a rule or a set of guidelines, but as Mother. She is loving, but unforgiving. She is beautiful, she is wicked. Free skiing a volcano in the summer corn will realign your heart. A soggy slog will rekindle your fear of God. Any relationship requires an abundant amount of effort to reap the rewards. Commit. You must know the mountain’s weaknesses, and her strengths. Her past can reflect her future. You must know her friends, the snow and the wind. Wi

zalpyalg001

Oct 242 min read

Mean Mathlete

My high school bully was a pure bread mathlete and towered over me at a meager 5’4”. An alliance was impossible, for he defended his tiny world with tyranny and oppression. His colorful personality warned outsiders to stay back while he snapped and snarled at the world. He was no match for the athletes, conversationalists, or the secure. He avoided those he disagreed with, which was a great many indeed. During times of mingle, he could be found leashed to our English teacher

zalpyalg001

Oct 162 min read