we are curled like springs of kittens ( Read more... )

sitting on the floor of smith absorbing bits of bend sinister. why do his words so righteously penetrate me to the core? i feel like i've been breathing nitrous oxide; but also so heavy i doubt i will arrive to stand. if i do get up, the weights in my fists may well stay pinned to the ground, ripping my arms from their sockets as the rest of me ( Read more... )

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so many things to say and not a moment to say them...

goodbye petit ibook. hello enormous clunkiness.

( la bête )

"i'm a rappist from the bronx, yo yo yo...."

pourrait-il vraiment être mort?

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my heart is beating like a bunny's and my head throbbing like a gong ( Read more... )

and soon i'll be all limbs, i say ( Read more... )

mein gott ( Read more... )