Comments Posted By Carolyn

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The corner of your heart. What a lowsy word, corner. Corner of a road a street. Maybe I’m just lowsy

» Posted By carolyn On 06.08.2011 @ 9:28 pm

She backed into the corner, glowering at him. It was all an act – the vulnerability, the weakness. He might have her cornered, but she wouldn’t stay that way for long. And he’d soon regret ever chasing after her.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.08.2011 @ 8:28 pm


Forgetting. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it necessary? Is it a force of evil? Okay that’s toos far. I hate forgetting, as I’m sure others do. It happens instantly sometimes. Why don’t I make an effort to encode it into my long term memory?

» Posted By carolyn On 06.07.2011 @ 7:51 pm

I feel as though I am constantly forgetting things. The little things, the big things. It’s not just a feeling; I am forgetting these things. My brain feels as though it’s constantly buzzing, hopping from one thing to the next with no time to stop and focus on the task at hand. It’s little wonder I get next to nothing done.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.07.2011 @ 7:37 pm


I painted and painted and painted and yet seemed to go nowhere. The colors ran, ran right off the page. Pooling at my feet. They refused to obey. Asking nicely didn’t do any good. They just did as they pleased, without a thought or care about what I, the artist, might want.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.06.2011 @ 7:58 pm

I painted my nails recently with sparkly nail polish. Accessorising you could say. Is nail polish an extension of a girl (or a boy if that floats your boat) ‘s personality. Joseph Cambell

» Posted By carolyn On 06.06.2011 @ 6:05 pm


My dad draws on his chalkboard sometimes. I haven’t seen much evidence of it myself, but what I have seen is so much fun. Dad, why don’t you draw more? I know you don’t have much time, but a sketch here and there wouldn’t be a waste of that time.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.04.2011 @ 8:03 pm


The radio was silent. It wasn’t usually; on a normal day it could be heard from 9 am till 5 at night – pop, country, rock. Whatever they felt like. Who knew ghosts retained their musical taste?

» Posted By carolyn On 06.03.2011 @ 3:35 pm


Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like to be famous enough to have a limo pick me up. Would I be happy, living that sort of life? I dunno. Part of me wants to be well-known and respected. That’d be nice. But at the same time, attention is unnerving. Uncomfortable. I guess that’s what tinted windows are for.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.02.2011 @ 7:06 pm


Take off you’re backpacks–high school is over. The things they carried.

» Posted By carolyn On 06.02.2011 @ 9:45 am


Thin mint cookies. A slice of heaven. With all of the tasty treats that heaven must have, I’d imagine the dead would get tubby fairly quickly. Then how would they flit about on their angelic wings?

» Posted By carolyn On 05.27.2011 @ 7:26 pm


there was a huggeeeee crash recently at a toll booth where a car sped 80 miles an hour INTO a fast pass station. Crazy. I mean I know that’s what the fast passes are there for, but couldn’t you slow down your travel a few miles slower. Really? Its harsh to say bc that person is dead. Is that the price to pay? (There’s a pun for you)

» Posted By carolyn On 05.24.2011 @ 11:59 am


He’s a thief! He thinks he can get away with it but ahh I know he did it. He’s probably smiling to himself right now.. sipping ona glass of wine and reminissing on the good times spent in his thievery. I hate to tell you honey, but nothing gold can stay. Its cumupants time. (Sp)

» Posted By carolyn On 05.23.2011 @ 9:24 pm


I am curious as to his thoughts on me. They’re never displayed on his face. Smiles can be amusedly condescending, frowns can be unrelated perplexion.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.16.2011 @ 6:55 pm


I have been on so many crews. Lighting crew. Set crew. FOH crew. Costume crew. It’s crew head time, people say, people think. But I don’t know if I am ready. I might be a responsibility-phobe.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.09.2011 @ 3:08 pm


She was not present at her daughter’s birth. The artificial womb had made that unnecessary. It was agreed that her husband and the doctor would be there, and so she didn’t have to take the day off work.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.09.2011 @ 9:03 am


She waves at everyone.
She is four.
The people on the street. The people in line at the grocery store. The people serving her family in a restaurant. In the car, she sits in her car seat and waves.
Everyone waves back. She is four.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.07.2011 @ 8:19 pm

I waver at the thought of your touch and cry and the feel of your skin. I remember and let go of you. But will you ever let go of me? Never. You waver at the thought of mine. I’ve let go. Now, can you?

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.07.2011 @ 1:25 pm


She always applied eyeliner with less care than she should, then touched it up. It was the same with nail polish. It entailed more work, in the end, really, but it was habit.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.06.2011 @ 12:46 pm


Dinosaurs were alive a long long time ago. There were many herbivores like the stegasaurus and carnivores like the t-rex. There lived over a number of time periods but are now extinct. Dinsoaurs have fasinated people for generations. The dinosaur fossiles have been found throughout the world by paleotolgists.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.03.2011 @ 11:21 am


His bandana was green, now. It had been yellow when she knew him last. It was strange, that it wasn’t the same bandana. He hadn’t changed otherwise. To look at, anyway. Maybe he had a brand-new personality, represented to the world in a different bandana-hue.

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.02.2011 @ 5:22 pm

At first I saw bannana, the semi ripe bunches of fruit in costco that we take home to ripen on the counter. Bandana makes me think of the scarf with the white twisty scrolls on it, red or blue with white details or the little pink one folded so neatly in my daughter’s dresser drawer..

» Posted By Carolyn On 05.02.2011 @ 5:09 pm


There was a chorus of birds. They were in the tress, and on the wires, on the ground and in the air. All of them were making noise. Cheeps and tweets and squawks and a woodpecker banging away. It was beautiful and terrifying.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.29.2011 @ 7:34 pm


intersection like at a four way stop?
like when your waiting to see who is going to go first?
like when you stop to wait to see when your going to turn?
like when you have writers block and your stoped at a intersection?
i think so.
for sure.
inter means stop

» Posted By carolyn On 04.25.2011 @ 3:45 pm


I was puzzled by every move of his face. The way he tilted his head was puzzling. That smile that elevated only one corner of his mouth was puzzling. The deep expression in his eyes, always, was puzzling. I couldn’t read him at all.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.24.2011 @ 9:20 pm


I left the iron on all day yesterday. I realised it when I was at work, but it was much to late to do anything.
I live alone.
I hate my neighbours.
I worried about it for the rest of the day, but I couldn’t go home. It didn’t catch fire. I worried for nothing.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.23.2011 @ 10:43 pm


Drums. I remember going to the University and sitting in the audience. The student we’d come to see was an Asian girl with long, long hair. We knew her from church and piano but had never seen her with mallets in her hands. Her arms flew as she beat out a rhythm that was something between a tribal beat and a symphony. The mallets were soft yet firm, a study in themselves, and her wiry presence on the stage electrified.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.19.2011 @ 2:07 pm


I picture a saloon with a man who wears a long reddish brown mustache. He’s in an old saloon with one elbow leaning on the bar, the bartender pulling the handle for a draft beer and a glass with a couple ice cubes in it in front of the man. He’s slightly sweaty and smelly, his language is gruff, when he speaks, which he doesn’t much.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.17.2011 @ 4:40 pm


I think about lines, waiting, tankers filling up and taking up a big space of cars at the pump. I think of Costco and exhaust and a man riding his bike with two empty plastic red gas containers to fill at a pump advertising free gas for one hour in the morning. We are out of gas when we have no energy to do anything. I think of an iridescent oil spill in the neighbor’s drive and my little fawn Chihuahua’s dainty paws stepping through the mess. I think of kitty litter that can be thrown into the mess to soak it up or the rain that falls, mixing with the oil and forming one large, diluted, oily puddle waiting to head to the ocean. I think of BP and their green logo and beleaguered British owner caught on film not quite knowing how to face the problem of his huge oil spill that is gushing and gushing toxins into our ocean, killing fish and affecting so many people’s lives and income. I picture his short cropped curly hair at odds in his discomfort with the picture of the man on a cruise ship, enjoying some of the fruit of his hard labor, someone who’s enjoyed the fruit of his hard work and now is caught in a problem of monumental proportions, really a problem beyond his political acumen.

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.15.2011 @ 12:31 pm


success means different things to a lot of people. some people think it means having a lot of money, while others deem it being able to accomplish everything they hoped. either way, it’s something that all people want to achieve, no matter the circumstances. it has three S’s in it, which is kindof weird considering how short the word is– only seven letters! wow!

» Posted By Carolyn On 04.04.2011 @ 2:53 pm

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