Fragments of ideas:
"Mr. Z, we've come a long way to find you"
"I'm well aware." The old man's eye twinkled. Heck, even his beard and snowy lint eyebrows twinkled like the Big Dipper. "The blind beggar. The pirate. The hot nurse"
*le gasp of realization*
"That was you!"
~~~
*With Russian accent*
"How did you know I was not your wife?"
"Easy; the last time my damn wife was that nice to me was after she ran over our cat backing out of the drive way and she gave me a pity-handy."
~~~
when we were younger we were attracted to older, dangerous men,
but now we're the ones flicking cigarette butts onto asphalt and getting high off carrying switchblades in our purses next to our rouge lipsticks.
~~~
The bite of the wind and the crunch of the leaves can only herald one thing: Fall.
Fall: the season to fall in love or fall apart.
~~~
Breakups are like New York mornings
~~~
The homeless in their baggy, dumpster-scavenged coats slouching and sagging from the weight of their socioeconomic burden dragging them down.
~~~
I spend too much time inside,
inside my room,
inside my head,
inside this lumpy sack of flesh and bones
~~~
Grosly I. Literate
~~~
She held galaxies of secrets between her teeth.
She would be beautiful were it not for the glassy look that haunted her face: an inutterable sadness
~~~
Security: a badly shaven wizard with a permanent post-thanksgiving bulge drooping over his belt.
~~~
-It creeps up behind you, an elusive predator: a green eyed leopard camoflaged in the snow, a black tiger concealed by the night. You don't suspect it, and then suddenly it bowls you over and you hit the hard concrete with the realization: "Something has changed."
"I'm well aware." The old man's eye twinkled. Heck, even his beard and snowy lint eyebrows twinkled like the Big Dipper. "The blind beggar. The pirate. The hot nurse"
*le gasp of realization*
"That was you!"
~~~
*With Russian accent*
"How did you know I was not your wife?"
"Easy; the last time my damn wife was that nice to me was after she ran over our cat backing out of the drive way and she gave me a pity-handy."
~~~
when we were younger we were attracted to older, dangerous men,
but now we're the ones flicking cigarette butts onto asphalt and getting high off carrying switchblades in our purses next to our rouge lipsticks.
~~~
The bite of the wind and the crunch of the leaves can only herald one thing: Fall.
Fall: the season to fall in love or fall apart.
~~~
Breakups are like New York mornings
~~~
The homeless in their baggy, dumpster-scavenged coats slouching and sagging from the weight of their socioeconomic burden dragging them down.
~~~
I spend too much time inside,
inside my room,
inside my head,
inside this lumpy sack of flesh and bones
~~~
Grosly I. Literate
~~~
She held galaxies of secrets between her teeth.
She would be beautiful were it not for the glassy look that haunted her face: an inutterable sadness
~~~
Security: a badly shaven wizard with a permanent post-thanksgiving bulge drooping over his belt.
~~~
-It creeps up behind you, an elusive predator: a green eyed leopard camoflaged in the snow, a black tiger concealed by the night. You don't suspect it, and then suddenly it bowls you over and you hit the hard concrete with the realization: "Something has changed."
-A field of green-but maybe its the sea-that swallows you whole and spins you around and around with the grass at your feet and the dazzling sun in your hair until your head feels light and you collapse to the ground like child, bruised but too giddy to care.
-It's like being caged in an iron maiden, talons ripping through the sinews of your heart, a slow and tantalizing demise that you know you can't escape.
And yet,
-And just like that he's fixed you, like a broken wind-up toy that's had its key jammed or had a wad of gum lodged in its clockwork. The rasping pit of longing that's been threatening to suck you into its inky deeps as you've teetered precariously at its edge for months now has closed, as though his words ameliorated the gaping wound that spewed out amber clots of anxiety and self-contempt.
~~~
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"How do I know you're not actually a woman? We can either both drop our trousers, and whip out our testicles or we can agree that we are both real men and move forward."
~~~
I wish I could see the last of the fall leaves
~~~
I have no idea what snuff boxes are used for other than to store poison to bring to dinner parties and kill people
~~~
hell is the el scorcho Californian sun hailing perdition onto the one storey stucco mustard boxhouses that shake with the ferocity of the railroad ghosts haunting the land they desecrated.
~~~
He came out of nowhere
no yell SURPRISE as he pulled out the gun
and just like that Sonny was dead
blood blossoming from his brain
flooding the rivers and valleys of the sidewalk
with his thoughts, ideas, and dreams.
~~~
standing at the intersection of 71st and Lex I felt like Robert Frost.
~~~
Thoughts while climbing up a mountain:
"Crap, I really need to pee. I'm going to pee. I'm going to pee from up here onto those people down there. I'm doing it"
~~~
Where does your soul go when you sleep?
Does it go dancing on tables in deadly stilettos in the neon netherworld of seedy dive bars?
Does it take tequila shots and chase them with champagne?
Does it stalk strangers at Starbucks basking in the lonely light of their laptops while their lattes get cold?
Or does it stay stuck to the couch, weighed down by your waking failures?
~~~
"Blank, what are you doing here?"
"Well I get hauled down here when somebody fucks up, so doing the math: somebody fucked up"
~~~
That kid is 50 shades of batshit crazy. He isn't on the spectrum; he is the spectrum
~~~
They fell together with no deliberation or hesitation, with no more than a sustained glance a tilt of the head. Like a car accident no one could prevent.
~~~
~~~
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"How do I know you're not actually a woman? We can either both drop our trousers, and whip out our testicles or we can agree that we are both real men and move forward."
~~~
I wish I could see the last of the fall leaves
~~~
I have no idea what snuff boxes are used for other than to store poison to bring to dinner parties and kill people
~~~
hell is the el scorcho Californian sun hailing perdition onto the one storey stucco mustard boxhouses that shake with the ferocity of the railroad ghosts haunting the land they desecrated.
~~~
He came out of nowhere
no yell SURPRISE as he pulled out the gun
and just like that Sonny was dead
blood blossoming from his brain
flooding the rivers and valleys of the sidewalk
with his thoughts, ideas, and dreams.
~~~
standing at the intersection of 71st and Lex I felt like Robert Frost.
~~~
Thoughts while climbing up a mountain:
"Crap, I really need to pee. I'm going to pee. I'm going to pee from up here onto those people down there. I'm doing it"
~~~
Where does your soul go when you sleep?
Does it go dancing on tables in deadly stilettos in the neon netherworld of seedy dive bars?
Does it take tequila shots and chase them with champagne?
Does it stalk strangers at Starbucks basking in the lonely light of their laptops while their lattes get cold?
Or does it stay stuck to the couch, weighed down by your waking failures?
~~~
"Blank, what are you doing here?"
"Well I get hauled down here when somebody fucks up, so doing the math: somebody fucked up"
~~~
That kid is 50 shades of batshit crazy. He isn't on the spectrum; he is the spectrum
~~~
They fell together with no deliberation or hesitation, with no more than a sustained glance a tilt of the head. Like a car accident no one could prevent.
~~~
living in a studio apartment is like being a hamster in a cage: there's no real distinction between where you eat, shit or sleep.
~~~
soulmates?
i think there are some people whose souls intertwine and from that pinpoint in time they're latched on like they've become a permament stitch in the fabric of each other's being.
and maybe there are some people whose souls have always been connected, like they're running along a thread spun by the universe that's conspired to bring those individuals crashing together.
and then there are some people that are just pit stops along the way, people who could seem like a destination, like a future, but it's like falling in love with a stranger on a train: transient; in transit; no more than a hiccup in the journey, no more than being attracted to an idea
~~~
Comments
Post a Comment