September 2011
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Anonymous asked: what is your favorite color
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I have this headache, and I can feel it right behind me eye. Is this what dying feels like?
Anonymous asked: What color are your eyes, and what color is your favorite eye color?
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New day, different sweater
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neither
to and fro in shadow from inner to outershadow
from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself by way of neither
as between two lit refuges whose doors once neared gently close,
once turned away from gently part again
beckoned back and fourth and turned away
heedless of the way, intent on the one gleam or the other
unheard footfalls only sound
till at last halt for good, absent for good...
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Wrote 6 pages of a short story, that I’ve been thinking about for some time now. This is what I meant in my rant/post yesterday; I’ve been longing to sit down and write. Finally found the motivation to do it. Pleased.
Meanwhile, I’ve listening to the new[ish] Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin album, that I didn’t know existed. Really different, but really pleased...
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rêve
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I watched her for an hour
Today. A scarf tied loosely
Around her neck,
As though, without it,
Her head would roll off
And fall at my feet.
Maybe then, I could
Stare into her eyes.
A mentally challenged person could take better pictures than Terry Richardson.
I think one of my ribs might be cracked...
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WatchSupposed to listening to prof in online Modern European Novel classroom w/ Nora. Making breakfast and listening to Local Natives instead
Holy shit, I thought we were out of milk. Someone would have died today.
why not?
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Roses.
She went to buy flowers.
Roses. She paid $4.79 for
Five roses. The hand of a
Young cashier turned, with three
Small coins, but when the eyes
Followed suit, the girl was
Gone. The eyes looked around,
But the clock still ticked,
And the line still grew.
Twenty-one cents slid into
A small, warm pocket,
And a hand motioned to
The next in line. She found
A small vase when she returned,...
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danilova:
Since I grew tired of the chase And search, I learned to find; And since the wind blows in my face, I sail with every wind.
My Happiness by Friedrich Nietzsche
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I’m not sure how many of you have noticed, but I’ve slowly been slipping away from this website. Probably, more importantly though, I’ve been slipping away from myself. I haven’t been honest with myself lately. My choices, and my habits have become reckless…I have this image of me, this ideal. I can see myself, but it’s as if I’m at the top of this giant...
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I can literally listen to that song over, and over, and over again. I listen to it on repeat while I write—blog entries, poetry, fiction, news articles, scholarly essays. It has never failed me, no wonder it has 100+ plays on my iTunes.
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