Monday, August 30, 2004

Greek Mythology Won't Break My Fall

Like looking at the clouds too long while walking down the sidewalk, and thump slamming your heels a foot off a curb you didn't see. Just keep falling these little falls.

Thump: A rejection indirectly toward me. It seems very bad manners.

Thump: A beautiful day set apart for another day.

Thump: A beautiful apartment last night i could afford until they said the deposit was times the rent by two. Thump, times it by two.

Thump: Somebody keeps getting hurt, and for no reason at all.

It just feels like a day spent breaking up. Not knowing what to do once everything falls into place this year. If it really decides to. Feeling like hobos with lightness yet the heavy pieces of plastic that burn in our back pockets when Zeus doesn't seem like he's going to come through this time around.

Thursday, August 26, 2004

A Sniff Of Violet With Tea

read a product description: "sandlewood incense - best served after lunch." i like that idea of serving smells like you serve food.

flipping through the channels earlier, i hit upon a home shopping show. but no oh no, this was not just any home shopping show. it was the christian channel's home shopping show, hosted by a little old nun telling bible stories. even to unreligious me, it seems a smidge sacriligious for this sister to immediately follow the story of fatima, without even taking a breath, with "and now to commemorate this amazing tale you can purchase this 18 inch statue of fatima and her children, bringing her essence into your very own home for a mere $49.95." i half expected her to announce that with every purchase you'll get the free gift of automatic forgiveness of your sins.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004


I am really superstitious right now about a certain something and feel like words will cross themselves out in the air if I say them as awkwardly as I think them.

Maybe sometime next week I'll be able to diffuse this restlessness completely, whether the answer is yes or no.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Say It Again

I have yet to unearth the many common things that are dusted over with the everyday dirt of coming and going. Simple things when I become invisible when standing directly in front of mirrors. These things that are trapped in the skin no matter how many times it replaces itself.

I can read fiction again like I used to. Attempted books that failed with my math eyes at around page 100. A musky sweet, white paperback of Hot Water Music and Deadeye Dick just this week.

I have noticed a softness coming back into my voice instead of the sharp angularities that are forced from my steady confident-self. I am sing-song in my way of speech as I feel weaker and weaker.

I'm not sure where I was but I'm returning with all my weaknesses, and awkward prejudices hanging off my fingers in ghost form.

Monday, August 9, 2004


The anxious background music of violins being played in anyway possible creeps up my spine during the most boring times of my day. I am waiting for the dramatic outcome to this invisible soundtrack that steps on the scuffs of my heels. Though the climatic manifestation will probably take the form of breaking a dish, ripping a page, or tripping on my own shoelaces. I am currently undeserving of such mental string popping and chafing.