To solve the game I sketch out maps on lined paper with squiggly tunnels and shaky rooms, roads that leap too far right or left. I love it when I haven't yet explored everything, and there are blank spaces, terra incognita.
For the exact same task, twenty minutes isn't nearly enough time on one day but a decent amount of time on another.
The quality of a mediocre film improves when you watch it in good company.
When talking to different friends it can feel as if I'm bouncing around from one planet to another - some are brilliant and turbulent, others are spare and rocky, a few aren't planets at all but friendly moons with valleys, caves, and silver mountains. But they're all inviting, one way or another.
I like his free associative style of speaking. He says what comes to mind, but it's never anything malicious - at worst it's irrelevant, but mostly in an amusing way.
Pizza dough slowly swelling in a bowl.
At half past midnight, while walking past the brightly lit windows of a bank, I see a janitor inside mopping the floor. Several feet away his young daughter twirls around with a broom.