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[15 Jan 2005|08:38am] |
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Is this public?
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[20 Oct 2004|06:00am] |
Tomorrow is the sort of thought that forces foolish noises from out her lips. The sound of the paradoxical innocent, maniacal laughter of an eight year old.
The grey air. The dull sky. The clouds look like atmosphere. As if there are no clouds at all, but rather the hue of the world has been changed. The dignitary stands erect in his sepia pinstriped suit. Who irons him out every day?
Tom never takes off his ankle-length trench-coat. If he does comb his hair it's a resolution to convey an uncombed look of The Man who has taken very few showers and sleeps in the most mysteriously gesticulating manner.
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[08 Oct 2004|05:53am] |
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Imagine you can't die; not even if your body had been chopped into tiny pieces or set on fire. You are forced to exist in this state for all eternity. And it's not like you can undo being chopped up or turned into dust. There is no afterlife, no reincarnation, no death at all. No state of non-existence either. Forever you remain conscious but unable to communicate or even move. You become a prisoner with only your own mind to keep you company, that and the knowledge that it - this - will never end.
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[08 Oct 2004|03:23am] |
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From a view directly above them three moths faced each other making the symbol of nuclear power. The moths were discussing plans to start civilization.
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[06 Oct 2004|09:21pm] |
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on payphones and windows. At the market and rock shows.
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[06 Oct 2004|05:20am] |
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There are shards of glass surgically implanted behind her eyes. Her mouth tastes of an overwhelming sugary sweetness.
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[06 Oct 2004|05:17am] |
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This shirt is too red. She wonders how something can be "too red" How are colors objective? Meanwhile the sky is just a mask for limitless space.
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[06 Oct 2004|05:15am] |
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We should all be so lucky. Virginity should be taken violently. Not rape. Nothing so stigmatized as that. Innocence is best lost in a fury.
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[05 Oct 2004|05:57pm] |
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Sits on the cold ground with a pen and some paper writing half sentences with no punctuation more like scribbles hard to make out and the pen overflows globs of ink drip onto the paper thick puddles her clumsy hands she wipes the paper furiously her appendages severed ties with her brain desperate endless thoughts drawing her and globs of ink into a record of life not bathed in weeks her face covered now in black-blue
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[05 Oct 2004|05:48pm] |
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If there is a tommorrow I want you to help me forget.
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[05 Oct 2004|03:20am] |
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For about fifteen minutes she sat motionless on the bed which she was unaware was even a bed at all. The trauma had put her in a state of shock that wasn't unlike a sensory deprivation chamber. She heard nothing and objects were meaningless; lines surrounded her then disappeared into each other. Infinite winding black holes swallowing each other and all color that her mind could no longer register.
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[04 Oct 2004|07:38am] |
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She watched her friend like a hawk to make sure she wasn't a narc. She watched every line vacuumed in through her nose. It seemed as if she could see the coke actually reach the other girls' brain. She made her uncomfortable and that's no way to do a line.
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[04 Oct 2004|12:40am] |
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The subway crashes. Wheee! Bleeding on strangers on their way to the job. Better get your cell phones out. Bang in. I'm hangin' from three different metal poles. My legs are over there. That three-year-old's fingers are right here next to my head which is next to this old lady who looked like she was dead before we were mutilated in a train wreck. Her eyes are still open but she can't be alive I'm hopin' 'cus those eyes are barely attached and there's a rod through her vagina that comes out her left leg. Inside's an iron peg from the door of our car. Little girl's cryin' and my heartbeat's lyin'. Am I finally dead? Glad to be done with eternity but this consciousness is botherin' me. This ain't non-existence - or is it? Oh shit! Eternal philosophizin' the sentence is rationalizin' the people I hated, the end I awaited. memories faded even of those to whom I was related. my biggest fear of not having existed
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