This is a break. a breakthrough entry that relieves some of the linguistic tension caught up/ seething/ the whet shale, plaque-like desposits whom decorate the living room between my frontal cortex and my sinus cavities, swelling glows, lighting up the silences like it's fucking christmas (in March. Calendrial mistakes happen). Still. Santa is too ( Read more... )

today: crow, beak full of whole muffin, possibly banana walnut, flying away from the sunset. If I followed, I assume I would have found the best shadow(s ( Read more... )

treasure sails on the black nothing, contributing motion and excess to water ( Read more... )

This is a creative interpretation of an entry, four days stale ( Read more... )

I am filling a warehouse.  Compiling lists, stacking lamps, and carving nooks into the skin of damp walls. I am stashing proper nouns and adverbs for winter.  Or summer, to describe the fall (the big one).  Fuck spring and it's coital cross-pollination.  And those brisk sunrises that burn your cheeks with calling, or hope, or lust.  The freckles of ( Read more... )

Just as I am sure that any woman who wears a Sleater Kinney shirt is queer, I am sure Jealousy between lovers is a (war) game. A circular fight for validation on the foundation of fear. Stoke the fire to prove the existence of oxygen while forgetting that fire is destructive (allbeit hypnotizing), it sears and blisters indiscriminately. The ( Read more... )

I saw her before you did.
I knew what she was.

I want to sit staring at the moon on the Y of the 'hollywood' sign and be struck by lightning. Is the 0 more suitable? Isn't this how enlightenment works?

I want moon spots.
[I want them back].

My teeth are breaking. I'm buying a motorcycle. School is my only motivation towards other motivations. Light affects me differently. I'm studying language in ways that break my heart and set it on fire. My lips and gums ache from silence. I'm drinking enough beer; I'm not drinking enough beer. The mice might be coming back to the house soon ( Read more... )

Hyperthymesia. Try to spit a taste out of your mouth without moving your lips, you'll drive yourself mad or drown. Both if you're a romantic.