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long ago it must be -- I have a photograph
So, there was this woman.
She was standing in line for a coffee and pondering her linear perception of time, wondering when she would move out of her tiny apartment with a shit kitchen (and I mean it, this kitchen was properly shit) and find herself a real career or, you know, whatever.
Of course, she's blonde. They always are.
( Schrödinger would hate how people see him now ) -
you were freshly painted, angel, walking on walls
Interesting dreams, as dreams go. Strangely coherent, evoking a sense of longing nostalgia that, while earnestly and beautifully painful, is still perhaps a bad sign.
Still, maybe a good thing. The last time I had a dream like that (and I'm not saying that I believe in dreamfate or destiny or anything), things changed for the better for me.
( Something of an update on my life ) -
life being what it is, we all dream of revenge
Things are never simple.
Things certainly weren't simpler six five years ago.
Things were just very much different than they are now.
( {Neigh-nonsensical emotional dribble} ) -
shudder
Okay, so this is a really rough draft. I think I'd rather nest the block quotes, format-wise, but as far as content goes... I think it's what I want it to be. Holy shit, it feels nice to actually write something again.
( He smokes now... ) -
Forming habits
So I've been feeling absolutely confused and messed up and generally unwell lately, physically and mentally disoriented in astounding ways ( Read more... ) -
Eviction and other lovely events.
Basically, this is addressed to Caroline and Allyn (AKA the only two people who actually read this fucking thing). I'd write e-mails, but it's faster this way, and I have to work on my King Lear paper before work tonight ( Read more... ) -
sketch, round 2
Because I don't really want to get rid of the first draft (I can look back someday and try to see a process, or something), I'm going to leave the second draft of that crappy story from last night on here.
I think this is slightly better -- I felt much more in the narrator's head as I wrote it. So yeah.
( It was an undeniable reflex, like breathing. ) -
A kind of sketch
Something really rough that I sort of like the idea of right now. I have a general, fuzzy kind of idea where I could take this (it would be at the center of a much longer piece, if I could get myself to write more than twenty pages before losing interest ( Read more... ) -
Raglan Road
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth ( Read more... )