I haven't written here in a long time, but not for lack of trying, but because my ideas dont land here anymore. They land in literary magazines and museum walls too far and too expensive for me to see with my own eyes, but well enough the notion that someone else stopped, looked, and has seen. They land long-hand in journals, my cryptic cursive ( Read more... )

As ignored as an unturned stone, I went writing; and if it wasn't for the swift click of a mis-set bone in my right wrist, there'd come no sound from the page. A finger-length of coffee left in my cup, cold against the cold table, fake sugar gritting between my teeth as every grimaced gulp escapes. There's no more room in my stomach for it, and ( Read more... )

"every heart has it's secret sorrows which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad" Longfellow.

She once said she'd never write in these bullshit pages again; that anything worth writing in deserved respect, and she'd stopped respecting it. She said she couldnt remember how to write nice anymore, that something cracked under her little frame and it involved both her heart and right hand, and what little collapsing strength she had in her ( Read more... )

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I've become holly golightly
...lavish myself with bullshit
with
diamonds
with
louis vuitton
with tiffany
latinos
and cats.

but I guess it could be worse
I could lavish myself with shrooms and pot
drippy booze
and itunes
clothes from walmart/meijer/kmart just because they were on sale
and chapstick
and bullshit.

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ya know...

i could be really cruel and honest and say somethin nasty that i might regret
somethin like...

(it was here, and phew it was bad).

but you know what;
i dont think i will.
not yet anyway.

p.s. dont break your teeth on the water bong.

<
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i got another tattoo.

i <3 ink.

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