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Cherry-Coloured Funk
"I can't feel my pulse anymore," she told me while looking down at her arm, two fingers pressed hard in the wrong spot on her wrist, turning white from the pressure. I really don't want to correct her and I don't, ultimately choosing to derive absurd pleasure in her death scare scrambling and, well, more than that. I can't remember how long I've ( Read more... ) -
My Bradycardic Valentine
Traditionally, it is drawn as having two curves on each side, and a point in the middle. A spider web of full tendrils surrounds and cradles it softly and sometimes not. It contracts and rests in a predictably rhythmic pattern - lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. Other times it stops for a moment - motionless and frightening, coagulating instantly and ( Read more... ) -
Dedicated to a Life of Reason, Pt. 1
"Baby, all I need is a shot in the arm ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I remember this. -
Rx
When something goes missing, even though I know I didn't take it, I sometimes feel guilty and wonder if my version of Mr. Hyde, of which I am unaware of, manifested itself and deceived everyone. -
baseball metaphors
I surrender to this unusual existence that seems to take so much pleasure in hurling curveballs low and away when I'm looking for the fastball, high and inside. I realize it must be like this for most, if not everyone, but it still surprises me every time it happens ( Read more... ) -
ocular pathogenesis
My eyesight is considerably worse than it was a year ago, even though my prescription hasn't changed much. I know the blame lies entirely on the fact that I have to watch hours of online lectures a week, and this troubles me because I have to do this for at least another two years before rotations begin. I'm pretty sure you can't be blind and ( Read more... ) -
kismet
matt,
remember jessie and simon's story. remember to create it!
- matt
also: nada much, chapstick run and hotel walk, foam spheres aimed at forty-something's chest, neck, ears, and eyes, conveyer belt surfing, fischerspooner rewind, growing up and hope, always hope. -
Perspective (October 6th, 2004)
I felt uncomfortable, but I was determined to put on a good act. I held the glass out in front of me, admiring the bubbles in the clear liquid as they struck the beams from the crystal chandelier. I had already had too much, but to stop now would be too hard. I brought the glass to my lips and tilted it upward, letting the cool bubbles cascade ( Read more... )
