| dismember, remember |
[18 Jun 2006|05:00pm] |
Her little white picket fence teeth were just begging to be kicked in. What's this? Hostility? Why should he feel this way about her? She was just playing her hand right?
Oh fuck her, she knows exactly what she's doing.
"I'm Leaving." He crushes the words under his swollen tongue before slopping them out. She smiles and doesn't say anything.
How fucking predictable. How fucking cute and mature of her.
As he leaves, it appears as though his top half is motionless in a catatonic rage while his legs move quickly towards the door. He seems to be rushing ahead at top- but still dignified -speed, not slowing or stopping to scope out a path for himself. To compensate he whips his eyes around, frantically hoping to avoid a collision. This odd maneuver makes her laugh inwardly. It reminds her of a certain animal or maybe a cartoon character but she can't remember which one. Vague annoyance.
"You want to get something to eat?"
Character three enters the scene wearing her favorite dress, the one that goes great with her eyes. "Shit it's hot. Who was he anyway?" Her sentences never seem to be connected.
"Yeah, how about Abierto's?"
"Sí, claro."
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(2 little mountains | say yes)
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| Sangy |
[21 Feb 2005|03:25am] |
“Do you remember when you read that poem to the class? You read it to the class and it was in Spanish and we all thought that you were beautiful and wished that we were beautiful like you.”
“Oh yes, I remember that.”
“Well ever since then I’ve been thinking that maybe you could teach me to speak Spanish and I could make you sandwiches. I make very good sandwiches.”
“Well yes, I would like that.”
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(1 little mountain | say yes)
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| Isn't book cover this pretty is? (Raquel:Doc) |
[16 Feb 2005|10:37pm] |
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Isn’t lover this your?
For phone that the rings you
That fists like mind move you
And through your glue
Fall fastly quicker-sweet-bashful morning
Corner seat thoughts under red lamp lefties
Mentioning turrets in wine colored flesh
Earplugs in momentary bangs and mesh
Forget how light your head feels lightly
When you’re down under water
Down deep down slightly
Rising faster then quicker
And smoother than filler
And everything comes out
Just fine
Pass no judgement, it's just the wine.
( But what a lovely day )
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(23 little mountains | say yes)
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| If I could |
[15 Feb 2005|12:48am] |
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If I could paint a picture
of the way
The green mold creeps up the lit sign
And us sitting below
Looking for knots in the wooden bench
It would be the most
Beautiful
thing you ever saw
I would hang it
In a museum
Of modern heart
And little kids would look at it
And see an alligator
And their grandmother’s house
With the dog
That won’t even look at them.
Would you
Would you
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(4 little mountains | say yes)
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| I'm Thrilled With The World Today |
[12 Jan 2005|01:35pm] |
|
We got out of bed five minutes before the bus came, made a run for it and saw it leaving the stop, but the driver saw us and pulled over to let us in. What a delightful man! I lost my wallet, but then I found it again right by the bus stop where I expected it to be. What a delightful street! (Losing it then finding it is a far better feeling than never losing it at all.) Raquel and I went to eat bagels on the shop's patio. What a delightful patio! Oh and if you are in Santa Cruz then you probably know what a lovely day it is. Go outside!
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(8 little mountains | say yes)
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| Enon |
[08 Jan 2005|06:22pm] |
|
They were law breakers that night. The two of them stepped right on past the "Residents Only" sign without looking back. Tiny white town houses surrounded the narrow movie-set path. They saw the gazebo at around the same time and headed for it. There is no way they could not go in it. They sat down on bright metal chairs and shared a pipe. He had brought peach tobacco. When they had stayed just long enough, they got up and left that spot, setting out to look for other excitement. People had been saying that a storm was coming to town. The rain was off and on, but the storm certainly shook its fists. They walked on and were stopped by fences and tall bushes and other strangers on the street. While observing one particularly quaint and secluded avenue she asked him if he should like to play hide and seek. He said yes. She closed her eyes, counting slowly, until it was time to find him. She stepped out past the cars parked along the street and immediately saw him. He was lying face down on the wet asphalt, halfway hidden under a car. She looked at him, laughed a little, and then sat down next to him on the muddy road. Hours passed while they sat together, leaning up against someone else's car. It had gotten colder. They could each feel eachother shaking from the wind and rain drops, but neither of them moved.
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(say yes)
|
|
[28 Dec 2004|01:39am] |
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i like to feel your hand when it's warm and sticky from holding mine for too long. i like to get distracted by things you say and i like it when i catch you looking off.
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(say yes)
|
| Like a Ready Made |
[08 Dec 2004|12:00am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
whelmed? |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Walter/Wendy Carlos - "Beauty in the Beast" |
] |
There have not been many colors lately. They come mostly on weekends and I feel like they might extend through the school days, through the work days and through the long waits for buses. But they stretch themselves too thin in a matter of hours. I get excited over some imagined scar and even go so far as to drawn it in on some picture I stole. But it’s not like I have anyone to show it to. On Sundays when I get my break I sit and eat with the old Mexican ladies. Sometimes I look at what they have on their plates and think it looks gross, and then I remember what’s on my plate. How I mix everything together and top it all with ranch dressing and sunflower seeds. And then I think that their neon yellow rice does not look so bad. Our whole table speaks in Spanish and I listen, but don’t understand. I think how silly I must look as the only kid sitting with women over twice my age as they chat on while I eat the sandwich with a regrettable lack of roast beef, but I love those meals and sitting with those women. Breaks are short so I eat fast and when I stand up I always remember why that is a bad idea. I drape the whole salad bar in a layer of plastic wrap and it looks like a Duchamp ready made. And I wish somebody was around to call me a genius.
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(12 little mountains | say yes)
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| A Christmas Twist? |
[06 Dec 2004|01:34am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
take it all! |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Roy Orbison- "Crying" (but i'm not) |
] |
sleep thinks of future and i dreamed nothing of you.
flute chair. fluechair. futechure. future.
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(5 little mountains | say yes)
|
|
[03 Dec 2004|01:09am] |
She looked at me and she was playing cello with her eyes. Her arms moved like trapeze artists, and she waited. She kept rubbing her fingers across her necklace, a feather shape carved into bone. The remnants of childhood cowboys and indians. She asks me to put my hands up in the air and I say
"Let's get married."
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(2 little mountains | say yes)
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|
[07 Nov 2004|09:35pm] |
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Is it always like this?
|
|
| Weenie |
[05 Nov 2004|01:18pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Supertramp-"Breakfast in America" (download this song) |
] |
Me as Elton John on Halloween (thanks charlotte!). and thank you sam, whose picture this is. i'm...pretty ridiculous.
|
(11 little mountains | say yes)
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