After reading and re-reading a majority of Raymond Carvers collection of stories, I decided "carport" was my favorite word. I romanticized the suburban implications of its sound; the astroturf and econobox house simplicity that its syllables conjured. It was as blue-collar as it was delicious ( Read more... )

the mirror was peppered with a confetti of toothpaste sputterings. i stared at the charcoal wedges beneath my eyes and piled my hair on top of my head, careful to tuck each strand of hair securely into the tie. i spread the exfoliating beads across my face, creating concentric circles and increasing the intensity with each cycle of my fingers.
when ( Read more... )

"if you write so many stories, why don't you write one about me?" he asked her, to which the girl responded less passively than she would have liked and nodded her head ( Read more... )

Have you ever heard the theory that the more you respect something, the more susceptible you are to become similar to that something? Or that the more you defend someone or something, the more you find yourself easing into what you realize later is their shadow ( Read more... )

The gurus of product packaging all must operate under the same organization. It's so funny how every single quasi-DIY dinner (aka: "we made it, you heat it") adds, with its instructions, "enjoy", as if you are required to do so.
"Stir and enjoy!"

HAHAHA. ISNT THAT GREAT.

sometimes i just wish the world could live in harmony, for just a day. an hour. even a minute. just so i could have that memory...of when things were what i thought were “right”. like if the sky was lit up with the afterglow of fireworks for just one hour. everyone would be so incredibly happy and so indescribably in love with life and everyone ( Read more... )

at random times throughout the day, my heater makes noises. if i let my imagination wander more, i'd almost think someone was ascending up the interior pipes and conduits with a hook and chains ( Read more... )

Some people live their lives being subconsciously uncomfortable with who they are and who they want to be. These are the people who assemble books they never read by authors whose name they heard in passing on a bookshelf in the center of the room. These are the people who if you ask them if they have read anything by so and so or seen film xyz or ( Read more... )

so, today I found out that the slice of sky between these towering buildings that make up the view outside my window, was where the World Trade Center used to be. I should have realized it before. There are no slices of sky without a history in New York City. Especially not ones framed by wires supporting the still-standing but ruptured buildings.

"i beheld leaves within the unfathomed blaze ( Read more... )