Comments Posted By Aisling
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 55 Comments
I’m allowed to have moved on, right? There are so many hundreds of reasons not to go. But then there’s that one reason that I should.
» Posted By Aisling On 04.07.2019 @ 2:00 pm
She tells me that her name is Perle, and I immediately connect, feeling as though I remember the thousands of years it took for her to grow inside an oyster to become beautiful and hard and strong. You can tell she’s been around and knows a few things and I am a full and absorbent vessel.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.16.2019 @ 8:23 am
I almost booked that little cabin, right with its own little personal pool, an almost puddle in the rocks where we could have spent days splashing about together in the warmest summer since 1965. But he never called, and didn’t come ’til weeks later. I kept my mouth shut, as I always did.
I loved him, you see.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.15.2019 @ 4:08 am
I had an impossible habit of ending up at the coast. I’d get to feeling lost, like the expanse was far too wide, and yet claustrophobic too. An ungainly paradox that I never quite managed to figure out. And yet there I would find myself, as if resetting. Turning myself off and on again, like an ageing piece of technology you’re already resetting for the third time on a busy Monday morning.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.14.2019 @ 2:36 pm
For the first time, I might be willing to write it down on paper. So long dignity. So long guilt and grief.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.12.2019 @ 8:04 am
I haven’t spoken to her in years, and yet I regularly find myself thinking about her. Even still. There was something very off about the way she moved through the world. Her name, which her mother chose, was an odd one in terms of her mother’s South Korean upbringing, because she could never pronounce her “L”‘s properly, and her name was filled with those tiny little L-shaped dancers.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.08.2019 @ 5:33 am
I watched an interview with Paul Auster yesterday morning, while gulping down my porridge. Porridge, in an attempt to lose weight.
I sometimes view authors in a way that I shouldn’t. I hear their voice in my head when I read, and then I see them in a video or an interview and I can’t help but feel like maybe I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.07.2019 @ 3:28 am
That day, they had big eyes planted in the trees. Cartoon type, something that my friend said would be “something that she would love” and she was right. It took everything that I had to get there, and even more to stay but somehow that inflatable wedding chapel and those crazy eyes planted amongst the mustard flowers of the summer trees were something to stop the negative thoughts from spiralling for once.
Maybe art wasn’t a complete loss after all.
» Posted By Aisling On 02.22.2019 @ 1:29 pm
I can’t tell you how many times that bloody song rang through my head. Over and over, telling me that all that matters in the end is love. Well I’ll tell you what, there’s not a lot left to be done with or without love when you’re tying him up, cutting the plastic ties into his wrists and not even caring about his beautiful skin anymore. He made me this person. He did this to himself.
» Posted By Aisling On 02.18.2019 @ 5:19 am
There is never a silence here anymore. Everything runs and purs and screeches and cracks and howls and I can’t turn it off. I’ve been listening to music to drown out everything else, but despite it being relaxing, I feel as though I’m running away from something. A dash. A headache. I’m scared to be alone anymore. Keep the noise coming but turn it off entirely.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.14.2019 @ 6:14 am
I met him while he was working again and we both shook and babbled and probably didn’t act at all like we would have liked to. Later I bumped into him again, and we did much the same, but this time we walked together and I drew attention to the fact that I was babbling and being pretty terrible. He walked me to my car, we hugged and he almost left. But I called him back, and kissed him on that corner, despite not knowing whether or not that was what he wanted, or whether I was really allowed.
We’ve been together ever since.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.27.2018 @ 4:08 am
My dad took the cover off the wheel last week, only about two months after I’d asked. My hands are giving up now. Tomorrow it’s one year since I worked, and I’m so much worse than I could’ve imagined back then. They told me I’d never get better but the sun never realised. It rises and sets in the most cruel but beautiful way. Just like it doesn’t care. It doesn’t.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.26.2018 @ 1:15 pm
I don’t stay away from home very often. I sit home, when I can sit, and I mope and I cry a little. Or a lot, if we’re being completely honest.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. My heart isn’t in it, and neither is my brain. Chronic pain. I have a heart but my body only beats along in painful ways.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.08.2018 @ 7:27 am
Bad things happen to good people all the time and I like to question that. Why? Does anyone really know the reason for these disasters? Is it a message from a higher power? A threat that something bigger will come if we keep abusing our planet the way we do? Some people believe it is this, the work of God. Why would God allow these things to happen if he/she is so powerful?
» Posted By Aisling On 02.19.2016 @ 10:42 am
Bricks are the foundation of our society, they are present in the construction and destruction of our world, the pile of rubble ready to create, ready to be destroyed.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.22.2013 @ 6:28 pm
It was the end of the day. The curtain was slightly open. The rain drops shone orange from the street light. And the silhouette of a horse ty named thunderbolt could just about be seen.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.13.2013 @ 4:36 pm
a barrel soars through the air. the insides slosh. around. some water flies out through the cracks. but mostly, the little boy inside is frightened
» Posted By Aisling On 01.01.2013 @ 3:26 pm
there was a boy in a barrel. he liked the smell of the wood. there were once apples in the barrel. by once, I, of course, mean, yesterday. But he ate them today. so now he is on his own. no apples, only the smell of wood. and the music in his head. he sometimes sings to himself. for no particular reason, only because it’s something to do besides think.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.01.2013 @ 3:21 pm
the library is not as she expected. the books aren’t dusty; the shelves aren’t dark and cramped. there are no gowned scholars, no sconces. just strip-lighting and well-organised folders. she is oddly disappointed.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.24.2012 @ 4:37 pm
they huddle like crows at the bus stop every day
and the old women say,
their cigarette butts go cold in the puddles
when they leave.
and nobody is sure
where they go off to.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.08.2012 @ 4:54 pm
conceptual glances- forbearance’s forgiveness and the forgotten. What is your concept of love? of humility? Of freedom or democracy? Perhaps the same as another’s concept of tyranny.
» Posted By Aisling On 08.12.2012 @ 9:56 pm
suspects are usually involved in crimes. i hope id never be a suspect in a serious crime.. that’d be awkward. suspects are sometimes misunderstood. or dangerous. suspects suspects suspects.
» Posted By aisling On 07.20.2012 @ 4:09 pm
water holder with in the people of earths lives. It can hold water, it can pour water it can be the one scarce thing that will behold the water.
» Posted By aisling On 07.08.2012 @ 7:02 pm
people pull stunts all the time. stupid stunts that nobody approves of but that you pull anyway. everyone does it. stuntmen are the best at it i guess. but those are not the stunts i mean. stunts are silly.
» Posted By aisling On 05.26.2012 @ 4:55 pm
This lock is forever. This what I am. Locked in my body, forever. I need to get out. Break the cycle, break open the lock. Leave this shattered remain. Spread my wings to the sun. This is what I am.
» Posted By Aisling On 08.05.2011 @ 8:50 pm
I always wondered why they named him what they did. It didn’t seem to suit him after we gave him away, a flimsy little puppy all barrel shaped and incessantly annoying. I guess you don’t question a dying woman though, you go with things. It’s only ever in retrospect that we really understand.
What a legend you were, lady.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.11.2011 @ 11:05 am
I felt kind of bad for her, you know, throwing out forty bucks just for one bra when I just have to wander about and can buy almost seven for the same price. Either way, she’s got a job and she’s employed, and I miss her, the way she’s never there at three in the morning anymore, she’s just all asleep and nine to five. I dunno, we were friends once, we used to shop for bras together. Things change.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.10.2011 @ 8:41 am
My little dog had puppies this morning.
It’s hard to think of her any other way than as a baby herself. I brought her home in my pocket one day. She was small and light and disappeared among the folds of fabric. We became inseperable.
They look just like she did – round noses and little black ears.
These days have been passing too fast.
» Posted By Aisling On 11.28.2008 @ 4:18 am
I cried on the way home in the car. Row after row of melded, painted, screeching metal, purring and squealing, all lined up, moving sixty in the slow lane. I think I’m alone a lot, but I got to noticing people’s faces, and their smiles, and I thought about somebody else crying too, like it might just happen.
Like I might not be the most lonely little girl in the world.
» Posted By Aisling On 01.24.2009 @ 11:27 am
Back To Stats Page
I went and took photographs in the park on Monday, when I was supposed to have been in class, readying myself for an exhibition that I have no desire to be a part of. I had a black and white film, fast speed, and I could see my world coming together in the grainy form of underexposed normality, and it made me happy, hopping over that chainlink fence and being in love with something, everything or even anything.
» Posted By Aisling On 03.20.2009 @ 5:45 am