Comments Posted By A

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it’s you, alone, in a land of whispering shades. be tested. your wrongdoings will become blocks upon which monuments will be built. find your true purpose under stones and climb your path into the heavens

» Posted By a On 10.30.2010 @ 8:03 pm



» Posted By a On 10.26.2010 @ 11:56 am


how many weeks are there in a year? 54? is it easier to count down weeks than it is to count down days and months? a quarter of school lasts 10 weeks. 10, 9 ,8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, done.

» Posted By a On 10.24.2010 @ 11:52 pm


The microwave hummed. Inside cheese hissed as it heated, melted, bubbled. She waited, as she often had. 1 minute. 2 minutes. Life prepared, sealed, reheated.

» Posted By A On 10.22.2010 @ 4:03 pm


t-shirt that you wear during the winter. bed sheets on your bed during the winter. on muscle-y mountain men who are chopping wood with axes. reminds me of mountain weekend.

» Posted By A On 10.12.2010 @ 3:46 pm


the watery grave hath accepted me, penance for my sins paid in these raw breaths
her iron eyes dare not reject, yet forever press and peel the skin,
bubbles of earth

» Posted By a On 10.02.2010 @ 5:44 am


nothing helps.

» Posted By a On 09.24.2010 @ 1:30 am


upstairs is the hairdryer i just used. i just learned how to use it maybe a week ago and i’m a twenty year old girl. a pretty girl. i don’t even know how to use a hairdryer…maybe i’m not a real girl. maybe i’m just a sad excuse for one. maybe i don’t feel like a girl because i hardly feel anything anymore. at least my hair is dry.

» Posted By A On 09.11.2010 @ 4:21 pm


everything has become off-kilter, I’ve been put off my stride. The world has been turning like this for every day of my life. How come I’ve only noticed it now?
The ceiling will hit me

» Posted By a On 09.09.2010 @ 6:52 am


one day can seem to be no different than the one before it sometimes. i feel like they all blend together and i can’t tell them apart no matter how hard i try. i want to be able to tell the difference again.

» Posted By A On 08.28.2010 @ 5:43 pm


and you are just a balloon i let go of long ago, the string just within grasp, but never solid enough to hold, round and high and lost and alone as the moon in the sky so far so far away from me.

» Posted By A On 08.27.2010 @ 9:22 pm


The roof was low and the room hot, damp. As our teacher drawled on, we all sat, listening to our music or doodling or trying to think of one last way to distract ourselves from the fluorescent lights above.

» Posted By A On 08.22.2010 @ 11:47 pm

Overhead, we saw birds flyign through the air. They were angry birds and kept trying to swoop at us; crows trying to steal what garbage they good.

» Posted By A On 08.22.2010 @ 11:43 pm


there are sixty of them in a minute. anything can happen in a minute. fantastic things can be created, the world could end. it takes a second to tell somebody you love them, and one to lose that person.

» Posted By a On 08.13.2010 @ 1:24 pm


Nope. Nothing.
Majority of none. Your eyes look so blank and pale. Are you feeling alright?

» Posted By a On 08.02.2010 @ 12:26 pm


I made it to the park on time to see the most spectacular parade of boats. Even more exciting was the multitude of people with their dogs, with some of the dogs dressed up in fancy clothes. Someone tipped me off by phone that this event was occurring because otherwise I would have missed it. The highlight was running into Reeba, sitting on a bench, and chatting with someone she had just met, as is her style. Usually she frequents a park on the other side of the river, but today she was on my side of town, all decked out in her Sunday best.

» Posted By a On 07.29.2010 @ 1:57 am


maid marion maid of honorable intentions girl of her own making setting plates and candlewares to the table, lighting fires in grates and drying her hands in soot and ashes. The girl as a tool

» Posted By a On 07.27.2010 @ 4:24 pm


girl unstrung, you could always play that one. shannon. i wish i knew her in real life. i wish she lived here in new york, that we could hang out, listen to music together, go to shows, wander the city. i am so lonely here.

» Posted By a On 07.26.2010 @ 6:27 pm


you have to keep driving the road may pass before you and disfigure and coalesce but there is a certain road somewhere that you must hold onto as true, let pass these illusions, let pass the breathlessness and the panic, let pass the derision and the almighty
and drive

» Posted By a On 07.22.2010 @ 5:27 pm


“Komm mit,” he said.
I saw him as a silhouette, broadened and narrowed by panning lights.

» Posted By a On 07.19.2010 @ 6:46 pm


A new lease on life…whatever that means. Life isn’t something you can buy, or rent, or write up a contract over, signed by two witnesses. Where did that expression come from? I think it’s supposed to mean, your life was extended for now. But people are supposed to live for however long they were meant to. If it was actually possible to use life as a means of commerce–ie trading, leasing, lending–a lot more people would be either very old or long dead.

» Posted By a On 07.13.2010 @ 1:15 pm


this is the thick black smoke of a new generation. look through the haze of this unholy creation and become more aware of the inevitable end – the pumping and beating of a new and destructive order.

» Posted By a On 07.09.2010 @ 9:30 pm


That creature was not one of our kind – long exiled, we pushed him over the edge to see what would happen. His hairy fingers gouged lines in the dirt. His blood seeped into the earth. The curse of the primitive man is to bear the punishment of the civilized.

» Posted By a On 07.08.2010 @ 10:06 pm


those days were the better ones, when i stood with tall armor in the sunlight and killed before remorse existed, and all the trees and bellows sung to the righteousness of death

» Posted By a On 07.05.2010 @ 8:01 pm

i love the way the word “myth” sounds
like a speech impediment
but beautiful

» Posted By a On 07.05.2010 @ 1:08 pm


in these parts it’s considered common to shit in the street and sell it to passers-by.

» Posted By a On 07.02.2010 @ 3:37 pm


He pulled at his brocade with the pride of a rich man, pressed his fine jewelry between two knotty fingers. His eyes were bloodshot and raw with hate, but in his suits and sigils he looked exactly the part he was meant to play.

» Posted By a On 06.25.2010 @ 10:23 pm


There’s a strong and sandy oceanic breeze here. The sharp smell stings your face, blows white ash on your hands. You wonder where all the water has come from.

» Posted By a On 06.24.2010 @ 7:43 pm

We rode out onto the beach in his fading-green jeep. The sun beating against the hot sand, inviting a liquefying heat. We could barely breathe. But the view offered everything to counter.

» Posted By a On 06.24.2010 @ 4:33 pm


Once again, the tide has come in bearing its wealth of fruits and soils, sliding on the gravel path in liquid oceanic debris, I can pick and choose from the products of some other man’s labor just by holding out my hand

» Posted By a On 06.23.2010 @ 2:05 am

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