Comments Posted By Jorge Franco IV
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She cooled off because I told her too. She smiled when I looked so stern that I wondered if she was telling herself a joke. Or perhaps she was telling me a joke that she new I couldn’t here. Maybe that was the joke. I smile at the thought. Endgame.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 02.15.2013 @ 4:51 pm
“I hear the majority of the girls cannot whistle.”
“I hate the sound of music.”
“I won’t watch anything that doesn’t have Hepburn in it.”
“The thermometer is simply way to high.”
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 02.07.2013 @ 9:10 am
The flames of a wild Camus from going to the fad of an in when I saw that there was a majestic feeble wanderer in the wood and I said hey you ! Please don’t go in there, and you told me that you had to and I said what can I do to change your mind, but you said that there was nothing. I’m so sorry to have let you down this way, I only wanted to love you forever and ever and ever and ever.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 02.05.2013 @ 9:54 am
Camus sat at on the steps of the Grand Palias and watched… sketched rather economically sound equationalistically fractural grids that inherently constituted an entire solar system of plurals. What a guy.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 02.02.2013 @ 2:03 am
Careening through the scatter brained satanic systems of the ultra-verse I asked my cat what she wanted to be called. “Cat.” She said. When I asked her why, she looked at me with curious green eyes and stood up on all four thousand of her tiny little legs and ate tuna.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 02.01.2013 @ 11:25 am
Rivers run down the entrails of young pigs like waterloo in the wondrous woods of the wintergreen. And I sat wondering if I could smoke but the child was too young to taste the clean of the air so I thought I would wait a while. I waited and he grew from stump to tree in an instant and I cried when I saw how strong he’d become. I was floored by his kindness and thrilled at his love.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.30.2013 @ 3:57 am
Sarah Lemonia had had a painful birth. Her tenth in 20 years. She was getting old, and the baby had gotten too fat for her frail, tired body. The horns came first, followed by its big bulbous head, then the wings, then the baby.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.30.2013 @ 12:42 am
The green-eyed queen looked at the little boy and asked him to answer five questions about himself and his family.
“But I’m an orphan.” He told her.
“I just want to know where you came from.”
“I come from the sea.” He told her.
His eyes flickered from green to blue to white and back…
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.27.2013 @ 10:15 am
The wind chimes ring a lick into my ear curve and I smile. She asked me to stop singing but I never really started. She didn’t realize it was the sound of her eyes that tinkled like music. Oh how I love her. Green eyed and perfect. Happy Birthday.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.24.2013 @ 10:03 am
This can’t be happening. The donkeys at the left table are having their skin seared off with burning coils and the noise is unbearable. Really though, the girls are just singing a butchered rendition of what I think she said was a jazz tune. I don’t really know but my ears are bleeding. Kill me.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.23.2013 @ 8:45 am
She wasn’t used to wearing makeup. It made her feel so old. So wrong somehow. She wasn’t sure if it made her pretty. But she was able to finger the stuff into the great big holes in her face. She smiled at the fulfillment of it.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.21.2013 @ 7:52 am
“I can’t use this!” The little fiery-headed girl screamed.
“You can. Just wait for the moment to come to you.”
“This is so stupid.” She replied.
“Fine. Leave it behind. You will regret it.”
So she left it behind.
“Oh my god.” She said.
“I needed that.”
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.21.2013 @ 7:36 am
I put the cream all over my my legs. Tried to make them smooth and soft but it just kept running. I think it was because I had just been sweating all day. Damn heat. Even my hands weren’t dry anymore. I felt a suffocating, like I was breathing through a pillow. The longest summer of my life.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.21.2013 @ 6:52 am
The little girl could only keep her room half clean. The rebellion of insects was lurking, and it had already crushed through her fortifications. She cleaned every day, she was a good girl. But the bugs were still there. She could hear their wings and catch their shadows on the walls. She sighed in defeat. The bugs had won.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.19.2013 @ 11:47 pm
The little rat saw the kitten sleeping. I’ve got him. He thought to himself. The little critter crawled between the open jaws of the tabby kitten and slinked his way into the cat’s stomach. It was only six in the morning when the little rat pushed the button on his vest, and the cat blew up.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.19.2013 @ 10:31 pm
Crumbling through forever fingers, I was surprised how soft you were. Your spider hands cradled the heart like a baby, and you smiled as it sifted through the open cracks.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.19.2013 @ 9:01 pm
It didn’t stand very tall, but it ate everything. It opened the flesh to the inner most core and slowly, cleanly, it devoured the insides and ate the dead thing inside out. When it had consumed the last fingernail, the last hair, it licked its lips and smiled.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.19.2013 @ 6:41 pm
Triple shot swirling around the bottom of a wine glass before I kill it with soy and stub out my cigarette that I only smoked about half way. I’m so mad at you. So much angry is swelling inside my chest and creating mucus in my throat. You made me mad baby, because I love you too hard.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.16.2013 @ 8:04 am
She rode over the mountain on a stallion that reached from the golden hills to the deep plains and it made a noise that burst the eardrums of a thousand mothers and daughters until all that was left was this one beautiful woman and a thousand men.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.15.2013 @ 10:26 pm
Trust the yellow spotted lion lizards to tell you were the trenches shy away from the sand dunes capped with snow from the tundra but don’t trust them to tell you where the spider snakes live.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.13.2013 @ 12:45 pm
The swiftly shaping sands of the Terulian mountain dunes move in one direction every 20 seconds. They change so tirelessly that one can only hope to sleep eternally if caught within them.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.13.2013 @ 6:35 am
Ticking but not clicking like a clacking clock of time, it tells instead the true path to your heart and to mine.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.12.2013 @ 12:37 pm
I don’t think a fish can cry. They have to suffer their sorrows wholly on the inside, maybe that’s why some of them die so early. Some of them just can’t take it to not cry. Some people cry a lot. I guess they’ll live a whole lot longer. I hope they do.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.12.2013 @ 7:18 am
I told my radio alarm to shut the fuck up. It didn’t so I hit it. It wasn’t long before the stupid rabbit was on my. My sister let it sleep in the living room, and now it was in my room. “Give me carrots.” it told me. I wasn’t crying yet, until it pooped on my chest. Then I cried.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.12.2013 @ 7:16 am
The little girl was falling over herself. The scrape on her knee wasn’t that big, but when she tumbled out of the trunk of the car, she was horribly, terribly frightened. She tried to be a grownup but the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.11.2013 @ 4:29 pm
Master once told me: “Purity is the light before the sunset.”
That was before he jumped off the great wall at sunrise.
Why sunrise? Well, I asked his ghost when it came back to haunt me.
“Antithesis.” He told me.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.10.2013 @ 9:50 pm
A political wasteland is the dream of the undying politician because he may become undyingly and unintentionally necromantic as he idles by the swiftly changing tides and feels at a loss for power.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.10.2013 @ 6:14 am
Political Pelican was a fine fellow. He likes water lilies and fish and seafaring snakes. He wasn’t too fond of raindrops, however. One evening, as he flew, the rain fell. Political Pelican stopped flying right then.
“I won’t fly another meter until you yield! I deserve THIS!” He began to shout.
And he drowned.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.09.2013 @ 4:42 pm
GIVE ME A NEW WORD
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.09.2013 @ 10:14 am
Back To Stats Page
“Are we still promising things to each other?”
“Oh my god.” Stop asking me that. I wanted to scream at her.
“But I still love you” she said with a smile.
“Your whiskers are twitching.” Cat love isn’t like normal love. It’s like crazy love, nine times over.
» Posted By Jorge Franco IV On 01.09.2013 @ 9:27 am