Archive for written
Apr
19
the warm green of the walls
The sun is streaming in through the your window. Not that I would know if sun actually streams through your window, but its of no importance, I just feel the sun pouring over us. We are laying side by side on your bed. On top of the covers because the air is warm and steamy like it is in late July. We are talking to one and other.
You say to me, “I am glad that we waited. Its been so nice to enjoy the empty city streets with you. To walk uninhibited and laugh out loud.” I ask you what time the shuttle leaves. “We have a few hours yet.”
We settle in, holding hands. “I can’t believe we are on the last one. The last shuttle from Earth.”
You tell me that our time here is over. I tell you that i am so glad that we have these tickets. You squeeze my hand. We just wanted to spend as much time as we could, here, together, before it was over. Drinking up the last seconds of the torpid air and languid sunlight.
Apr
6
overheard 38th and 6th avenue
“In my dream, there was a sparkling blue pond. At the center of the pond was a lush island, as the canoe I was paddling got closer the island started to smell. I got off the boat and on to the beach. The smell was coming from a horrifying pile of bodies. I realized, they were all of my ex-girlfriends.” – polo wearing dude
“Did you have a cooler as a little kid?” – little lady friend
“What do you mean a cooler?” – dude
“You know, a cooler full of the skulls of your neighbors pets and other small animals.” – lady
“That’s sick” – dude
“No, that’s what sociopaths call a hobby.”
mostly true but embellished a bit by your hoarder of secrets.
Mar
26
words are the vast expanse between us
via Fun Forever
i had a dream that you did not belong in. in the dream, you presented me with a list of reasons why i should be in love with you. your charm, your wit, our shared obsessions. you read them off to me as i sat in a wooden chair and you stood in front of me. i was not moved. then in the dream, you wrapped your arms around my waste from behind me now, and again read me your list. this time whispered in my ear like so many soft secrets, warm and arousing but still i unlaced your fingers and let you go.
Mar
23
what i should be reading Monday
Despite my best hope, this is no a joke. But pure GENIUS!
Pre-order your copy!
Amazon Description: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen’s beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action. As our story opens a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace but she’s soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead. Complete with 20 illustrations in the style of C. E. Brock (the original illustrator of Pride and Prejudice) this insanely funny expanded edition will introduce Jane Austen’s classic novel to new legions of fans.
Inspired by a gnawing spirit.
Mar
15
things i do differently now rather than then
i wear brighter colors
i eat and enjoy freely
i worry less
Mar
12
things i do differently now rather than then
i wear my ring on my right hand instead of my left
ronnie and i take up the entire bed
i get up before 11am on the weekends
i walk around with a freshness that i hadn’t felt before
Feb
24
improbable dream squence
We are on a plush train, cruising through the night. Pitch black nothing flows by. The train is so dimly light even our reflections are barely ghosts in the windows. The seats are plush and wide. We have plenty of leg room. This no commuter train.
The conductor comes by and punches our tickets, which say our destination is “Nowhere” and puts them under the tab at the back of our seats and leaves us alone. There is no one else in the train car with us. I am reading and you are watching the night go by.
After a time, you reach across and knock the book out of my hands to grasp my breast. Time seems to speed up. Almost suddenly, we are both naked, our clothes seemed to have just disappeared. You pull me on top of you and we are making love. It is exquisite. As we embrace, our skin begins to stick together.
You whisper in my ears, “Relax and let me in.”
I do. Your hands reach into to my skin, disappearing into my back.
We become frantic. Reaching climax, we begin to pull apart. The pain is as intense as the pleasure. Our eyes are locked and, I wake up in a sweat, feeling the same as in the dream.
Feb
20
uneasy companionship
while sick re-reading:
now that i am older and more well read, the book has much more resonance on many more levels than it did when i first grappled with mr. moore’s opus. prime example, while dr. gull is taking netley around london, he talks about the hemispheres of the brain having only been of lately connected more securely by a cable of neurons. that when we were a younger species and heard the voice of the gods, it was one side of the brain communicating with the other. outlined elegantly in this book:
Feb
14
kissing in the dark
This isn’t a story of romance or even of joy. It’s practical tale. Told in the most matter of fact way. That’s how it was, matter of fact. It’s fitting to revisit it on a day where we are told to glorify romance, but superficially. Real connections aren’t about a red card or a pink rose.
I was 16. It was Valentine’s Day, apparently the worst day to break up with someone. You live, well, you know. I had been dating this Chinese boy, Teddy, who showered me with attention, annoyingly adorable stuffed animals, giant cards that professed ridiculous sentiments, and had his friend drive us around like a chauffeur, us in the back. I knew it was going to be short lived. He was way too affectionate, kind of corny and consequently, possessive. But that’s what you do when you are so young, you get to act like a fool and date secret jerks. He was one of them.
On this Valentine’s Day, I was dreading having to go out with Teddy. The anxiety was building in me. I knew I was in for an evening of awkward silence and cultural misunderstanding at his friend, the chauffeur’s, house, with some karaoke peppered in.
When he called, I just blurted it out, “Teddy, I can’t see you any more!”
“What about tonight?”
“Not tonight. Not any other night. I am sorry to do it like this.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day!”
“I know”
“You are a real bitch.”
“Fine. I deserve that.”
“Fuck you…” He descending into a string of profanities that I hung up on. He called back, but I wouldn’t answer.
Later that week, I cam home a little late from school. I opened the door to, what should have been my locked room, and in the dusky light, screamed out.
“There is some one fucking in here!”
But there wasn’t. I flipped the lights on, as my mom ran up behind me. My room was filled with flowers. Roses and lilies and baby’s breath. Filled. Every surface.
It turned out that my brother had been bribed to let Teddy and his chauffeur in. They had filled my room. I didn’t have the time or the energy that night to clean them all out. Besides, my mother said that they were lovely, and why waste them.
Why? Because they gave me nightmares. Because Teddy continued to leave bizarre tokens of his ever increasing obsession at my house. They’d appear almost daily. Big cards, stuffed teddy bears, more flowers. At least this time, the gifts were left in the yard. So much easier to put them in the trash.
Teddy is actually tangential, but sets the stage.
As February passed into March, we had a few good days. I had started “hanging out” with a new boy. An extremely charming and charismatic boy, but who had a host of problems. But some how, I let him charm the pants off of me, literally.
This is how I lost my virginity, coming off a mild case of stalking, in a dank basement room. Lying on the bed, I turned my head to see there was a bear bottle, with cigarette buts in it. Piles of dirty clothes and the room smelled of stale cigarettes and dirty linen. He was on top of me. I didn’t really know what to do or what to expect. He had all the experience. I expected pain, but there was none. I expected pleasure, but there was none of that either. I felt serviceable. He plunged away and I made noise, but I wasn’t there. I was above, looking at the surroundings. Seeing myself and him, awkwardly intertwined.
As I walked my bike the short distance home, I thought about it. I was both relieved and disgusted with myself. I didn’t love this boy. I had just decided that it was maybe time to get it over with, like a chore. The breezes cooled the sweat that had beaded on my face despite the spring air. I lifted my face to it, changed and not changed at all.
