Sometimes Roads Diverge

. . . bryan currie . . .

Monday, July 7, 2014

Bolts and Screws

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The little girl wandered into her daddy’s workshop even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to be there.   How is it that small feet so ...
Sunday, April 27, 2014

Location, Location, Location.

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“What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.” – C.S. Le...
1 comment:
Monday, December 16, 2013

Walls

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The building at 439 Argyle St. had reached that awkward age before it could be called historic, when it was still simply run down.   The...
Saturday, July 27, 2013

Stay Away

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It’s not uncommon to see people – men and women – rehearsing on the subway. Young white women hold scripts in their laps, whispering li...
Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Man With No Number

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Yesterday I was summonsed for jury duty. I’ve been waiting for this day for 17 years. Call me crazy, but I don’t understand why people try ...
2 comments:
Thursday, July 15, 2010

There Should Always Be Dancing

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A man danced during an earthquake and believed his steps shook the world. When his dancing stopped, the man saw what he assumed his joy had...
Thursday, July 1, 2010

What I Did During My Summer Vacation

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Protected by the long shadows of tall buildings, my virgin city skin hadn’t seen the sun in many months. Imagine its surprise when I arrive...
1 comment:
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About Me

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Sometimes Roads Diverge
New York, NY
I am a thirty-something year old writer and speaker who still gets asked for his id before R rated movies. I'm told that one day I'll appreciate that I look younger than my age. For now, I'm tired of being called sweetheart.

I am easygoing. I enjoy music, movies, people, ideas, and entertainment that is and clever and creative. I like to laugh. A lot. I sometimes play too hard, but I also like being by myself - especially in the woods or watching a movie.

My friends are very important to me. Relationships keep me grounded and sane. I like good conversation. I need people in my life with whom I can be intimate and comfortable. And deep. And sometimes shallow, sarcastic, and inappropriate.

Sometimes I feel like I know myself well enough to fill a column like this with factoids about my life, loves, and interests. Sometimes I realize that I don't. Nobody really fits in a paragraph.

That’s why I write a blog . . .
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