Comments Posted By Isis

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A movement. The intricacies would seem esoteric if explained in detail – yet the untrained mind is drawn to its near mathematical precision. The exercises, the training – repetitive? meditative? torturous? – the abandonment, analysis, and tentative exploration of emotion as one travels across an endless line – to bring something, anything, from those who watch.

To speak the unspeakable.

» Posted By Isis On 03.22.2015 @ 12:18 pm


“Another rocks and minerals book, huh?”
She didn’t answer, but quickly unpacked her bag and proceeded towards the stairs.
“I’ve gotta admit, I was never that interested in geology.” She probably considers this useless small talk, I realized. No logic or reason to it, so of course she refrains from participating.
Should I, as well, submit to the awkward silence?
No – I have to say something to fill the continuously growing space between us.
Before I make up my mind to persist in my relentless campaign of meaningless speech, I hear the faint noise of a door closing upstairs.
“Could I look at it when you’re done reading it?” I say, this time to nobody.
It’s a pitiful sound that achieves no purpose.

» Posted By Isis On 02.10.2015 @ 12:07 pm


Pencils drop. Heads jerk towards the source of the noise – the searing noise of a bell ringing. Their skull seems to throb. I’m becoming all head, they think. Their head will expand, crushing anything in the way – buildings, trees, humans, planaria, protozoa, the soul of an expired milk carton – until it is only a few atoms wide and the weakest puff of primordial wind can gently scatter its structure into dust.

» Posted By Isis On 01.27.2015 @ 11:49 am


Time does not exist. The wind shoves me upward and forward. I soar. My thoughts accelerate ahead of my body. I don’t question why I’m not falling – I used to question it all – I now only observe. I only float up and away from the earth. Here we go, here I go through some clouds. I observe – there again – that my sentimentality has not yet died. I do not observe a phantom beside me. I do not observe another figure visible in grey oblivion. I emerge, soaked, over the weather. I cannot see the earth any longer – I never had a chance to say goodbye – maybe that was a good thing – but to the earth in my mind I say farewell. The phantom that was never there still remains not here.

» Posted By Isis On 01.09.2015 @ 6:42 pm


it happens slowly, daily, without us noticing it. you look back and realize everything that has passed you to bring you to where you are now. how you’ve changed. opened. added layers around yourself to protect you from the cold outside

» Posted By Isis On 08.12.2014 @ 9:49 am


how i feel about happiness. blurry around the edges. pain feels much sharper and more real and you are taken from one to the other in a pattern, a back and forth motion. you see with your eyes but not with your soul, so you feel like you are missing something

» Posted By Isis On 07.23.2014 @ 2:22 pm


waiting to approach me, ambushing me at the time when i felt least able to face you. i have never felt weaker

» Posted By Isis On 07.20.2014 @ 1:41 am


little flutter in my stomach, i want to push it back so you don’t see it but i think you do. i don’t want you to know what you do to me. i don’t want you to know that you have this power over me

» Posted By Isis On 07.16.2014 @ 10:59 am


walking through new york city, stepping into puddles as the rain comes down, dampening my hair and dripping down my back. a classic moment being hit with a huge spray of water as a taxi sped by

» Posted By Isis On 07.14.2014 @ 11:10 pm


catching light as i walk in, pressing against the side of my face when you wrap your arms around me. you will snap them off in the dark when you kiss up my neck and suck on my earlobe

» Posted By Isis On 07.14.2014 @ 12:16 am


close your eyes and try to see something, the sound, the way it vibrates in your chest, anything. anything that isn’t bland, spinning in a wordless space. i can’t reconcile one piece of myself with the other. you’ve brought me to this longing for freedom

» Posted By Isis On 07.07.2014 @ 10:02 am


glittering below, i see everything laid out before me. out of reach and i can’t get enough. you think watching will be enough, but then you want to touch. but you’re so far removed and it’s better that way. the distance keeps you safe

» Posted By Isis On 06.12.2014 @ 8:38 pm


dripping in jewels and walking through tall hallways. echoing as you call for someone. but you’re alone. pushing through rooms full of people to find yourself outside on a warm night

» Posted By Isis On 06.10.2014 @ 9:01 am


lit up in the dark, concealing just enough but letting me see you as you want to be. living slowly between moments that truly stand out

» Posted By Isis On 05.30.2014 @ 2:49 pm


i’m not even sure what that means or how you get there. is it something that you can only achieve with a ton of student loan debt? can education even have a past tense?

» Posted By Isis On 05.26.2014 @ 2:12 pm


like a snake, wrapping around me, skin against skin. i watch you from a distance, i let you move freely. i don’t demand. i can feel something, but i don’t want to be too close. it hasn’t served me well in the past

» Posted By Isis On 05.22.2014 @ 5:47 pm


I like to think that I’d done all I could, but perhaps it was not enough. Regardless, it was over, and we were opening our shoulders to the world, pointing our feet through satin and canvas shoes, gliding slowly, regally, across the floor in time with the music flowing from the glossy yet tired-looking piano. With what seemed my last breath, I curtsied to the examiners, the pianist, the small audience. The final note from the piano died away. There was a moment of silence, as if to remember a death. Perhaps a death had, indeed, just occurred.

» Posted By Isis On 05.07.2014 @ 6:16 pm


Wondering where the Puppeteer had gone, the man collapsed into a small pile of fabric and faux skin as the strings fell from the smoke in the sky. He would lie here forever now, his warped dreams left unfulfilled.

» Posted By Isis On 04.09.2014 @ 7:51 am


A single egg stood on the infinite counter top, wobbling with every wind gust, every slight disruption in the air. This egg had learned not to be afraid of the world around it. After all, the place was familiar. The egg had known nothing else. The egg knew every sparkling piece of glass embedded in the counter’s smooth surface, every note in the endlessly looping music. But this time, a sound disturbed the music. It was far away but audible, close but faint.
The egg heard, but could not answer.

» Posted By Isis On 04.07.2014 @ 8:26 am


Everything used to be under control until we started searching for gold. It isn’t even valuable anyway, now that I think of it. Yes, it can be exchanged for money; yes, it can be used in jewelry. But it made my life miserable. I was a fool, a fool, to go out every day in that hot, stinking air, looking for the smallest pieces, the most microscopic bits of gold: the ones that were overlooked by the big millionaires who had cleared out most of it. Well, I got my gold. But every time I walk past that beautiful gold necklace mounted on a pillow in my living room, I want to throw up.

» Posted By Isis On 03.27.2014 @ 8:36 am


“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ve reached maximum occupancy. You’ll have to leave.”
I blinked and looked up from my newspaper. A lady with a pointed expression and a plain white dress stood before me, drumming her fingers on the glass table.
“I was informed that Heaven was an infinite space. Was that false?”
She looked off to the side. “Well, uh…you’ve got to stretch the truth a little bit for the newcomers, you know. Good for business. Keeps them in the doors.”
I couldn’t help but snort. “And now you’re forcing me out of those doors.”
She gave me a condescending glare. “Okay, I understand you’re uncomfortable with change. I get that. I totally get that. But you’re supposed to be glad in these circumstances. Do you know what this means? You’re going to get a chance to begin your life all over is what this means.”
I folded up my newspaper and stood up.

» Posted By Isis On 02.26.2014 @ 12:50 pm


She poked me with a pencil. “Get the reading! We have…15 minutes left.” It was 650 nm.
“Ooh, my favorite wavelength!” I said, smirking. She gave me a tired look.
I sighed. “650, Elle.”
“And that’s all you had to say. Got it.”
There was an awkward silence, but I was bursting with words. She despised me, I knew. But it made me sick to see her like this. I decided to risk it and speak.
“Dude, this is high school biology. You’re acting like this is a college physics exam. If you’re that stressed, you might need some help.”
Those were the worst words that I could have ever said in this situation. Wow, Jo, great job, I thought.

» Posted By Isis On 02.11.2014 @ 9:51 am


The starlit sky shone through the glass roof, casting shadows everywhere. I stood on the eighth floor, staring up at the endless field of stars. I hadn’t seen a night sky like this since I was five and living in the mountains. I knew so much more about the stars now. I knew how they fused hydrogen to form other elements, releasing staggering amounts of light and heat. But these blazing balls of gas were so far away as to only appear as twinkling pockmarks on the sky.

» Posted By Isis On 02.06.2014 @ 10:04 am


As we were waiting for the movie to start, she was playing Flappy Bird. Trailers for explosion-laden action movies played, the noise reverberating through the cinema—but, when I glanced to my right, I saw her staring at her phone, completely immersed in that silly game. I scowled and poked her with a manicured finger.

» Posted By Isis On 02.05.2014 @ 8:09 am


The room was messy and unkempt, with infantile drawings, busted old computers, and dog-eared books with broken spines scattered throughout. There was no way that I could look for the files in here. God, why were the inhabitants of this house so messy? It was almost barbaric.

» Posted By Isis On 02.03.2014 @ 12:16 pm


“A progressively thinking man, isn’t he?” He swirled his black coffee inside the silly Hello Kitty mug. I stared absentmindedly at the mug for a few seconds before realizing that the mug was mine. My daughter had given it to me for Mother’s Day. Why did he have it now? How did he get his filthy hands on it? I had guarded it in the most securely protected safe I could find! My pulse quickened as I looked up at his face, a smirk distorting his already loathsome features.

His hand twitched, spilling coffee all over the rug. “Damn it!”
I snatched the mug from his hand and exited the room, grinning. She’ll love my story.

» Posted By Isis On 02.02.2014 @ 3:03 pm


He clasped his hands together, face lit up with inexplicable joy. “We’ve done it, friends.” These friends stared at him, half annoyed, half amused.
“You weren’t involved. We did all of this,” one of them finally said.
The man would not back down. “That’s right, you did. But that’s not what the world knows.”

» Posted By Isis On 01.30.2014 @ 6:51 am


She couldn’t apprehend the fact that I was leaving. Her blank stare hurt more than those thousand condescending glares she’d given me over the course of our journey to P26871. I wouldn’t see a glare like that ever again. They told me I was going home now, home to the planet where I was born. But that was not home to me. Since day two, that title had been assigned to this ship. In my peripheral vision, I saw the officers in all their space-age frippery, giving me pointed looks that told me not to dwell on this. But what else could I dwell on?

» Posted By Isis On 01.27.2014 @ 10:50 am


I caused no harm to that lady. Nobody believes me. I could have developed a persuasive and concise argument for why I am not the culprit. That is, if I had been given a fair trial. I was not given a fair trial—or, for that matter, any sort of trial at all. I was merely snatched out of my house, drugged, and locked up in this horrid place. I am not the culprit. I could get the documents. I could get the documents right now, if they hadn’t locked me in here. Please let me go.

» Posted By Isis On 01.15.2014 @ 11:46 am


My friend has married a toaster. I’m staring absentmindedly at an ornate vase, sipping from a bottle of limeade, as the after party rages on. Steam Powered Giraffe blasts from the ceiling, and I feel like I’m going to fall asleep.

» Posted By Isis On 11.15.2013 @ 11:15 am

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