Comments Posted By Stephanie Tillman
Displaying 1 To 5 Of 5 Comments
Follow the leader. Follow the morons. Follow the sound of my voice. Come along, my insipid darlings. Be free to follow me. As long as you do things my way, that is. Swallow before you talk. Swallow, swallow, swallow. Swallow the swallow bird and silence it like I want to silence you.
» Posted By Stephanie Tillman On 06.25.2015 @ 9:36 pm
The client is waiting. Buzz, buzz. The client is waiting. The droning of the secretary almost drowns out the ticking of the clock, the incessant ticking, ticking, ticking of the clock. Buzz, buzz. The client is waiting. The client is waiting. The client is just outside your door. He’s been expecting you. His horns are growing longer and longer. Tick, tick, tick, tick. The client is waiting. Can’t you feel the heat through the floor? Buzz, buzz. The client is waiting.
» Posted By Stephanie Tillman On 06.24.2015 @ 10:14 am
Slinkying silks on sashying divas with disco hair and lights glimmering above in chandeliers. Dance, dance, dance. We crave meaning. We long to fill the holes in our hearts. We cradle ourselves in pillows of the best things, with tassels, whatever it takes to make it look like we’re rich. And maybe we are. But luxury is all in perspective.
» Posted By Stephanie Tillman On 06.17.2015 @ 3:41 pm
The locals look at you strangely. Your plain black clothes stand out against the soft beiges of the sand. They tug at the feathers in their hair, the bones around their necks. You are strange, so foreign to them. You have come here to tame them. But all they see is a pampered animal who has yet to let themselves be one with nature, to become who they are truly meant to be.
» Posted By Stephanie Tillman On 06.09.2015 @ 1:40 pm
«« Back To Stats Page
The tracks go on and on. See the trees in the distance. See the empty spaces between lines. See the splinter-less wood. The tracks go on and on. They stretch into the sunset. They stretch toward the heavens. They stretch for hope. The tracks go on and on. Listen to them singing. Listen to their hollow cries. Listen to the whistle of despair. The tracks go on and on.
» Posted By Stephanie Tillman On 06.08.2015 @ 1:22 pm