Comments Posted By barefootink
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Crunching in the sand, shards snapping beneath my bare feet. Like an alligator snacking on bones as I dashed along the shore. One. Two. Three. Four. The rhythmic beat of my feet as I ran across fragments of ocean.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.19.2013 @ 9:12 pm
Anything is possible, they tell you in school. In life. At sporting events and every day we defy the odds. I’ve learned, in recent months, that the possible expands to new horizons, to new incredible creations and solutions, when you work as a team. Two can achieve more impossible things than one. And me, I like to think like Alice and imagine 6 impossible things before breakfast.
» Posted By barefootink On 10.07.2012 @ 11:07 am
Yesterday I went to visit a girl who had been in a car crash. She was one in a crew of 6 kids. The roads were wet and the speed limit sign read 35. The speedometer was fluttering at 100. They flipped the curve, tumbled in the dust, branches ripped the roof from above their neon heads. Everything glittered in the tumult of ruined adolescence.
» Posted By barefootink On 07.16.2012 @ 6:48 am
What an awful word to have to write about: distributor. It’s an undignified word to describe what Santa does with Christmas presents: he distributes them.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.27.2012 @ 7:25 am
The storm came in unexpectedly with harsh gray blue clouds swallowing up the trees. The runner weathered it out, bearing the hail that crashed down like the O’s in Alphabet soup. His socks slipped, his balance shook, and the cold ran shivers down his spine. He splashed his footprints onward.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.25.2012 @ 2:48 pm
I would love a straw hat. To sit outside in it and drink lemonade on a sunny day by the ocean. Or in the ocean. I imagine it would feel exquisite to hold the brim down on the top of my head in the breeze while I throw my head back in laughter. Surely this is Happiness.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.13.2012 @ 2:15 pm
Romance isn’t dead but it isn’t a fake dinner or a nice restaurant or showing up at the door with flowers. It’s loving someone and dedicating yourself to their honor. Romance is the small sacrifices couples make for each other on a daily basis. Romance is the kiss goodnight old couples exchange after a lifetime of being together. Romance is the four leaf clover presented to you for luck from your besotted.
» Posted By barefootink On 05.16.2012 @ 11:26 am
You can always tell when it’s about to rain. Everything goes quiet, even the insect’s wings. They disappear into the hollows of tree bark, beneath the ground, into the sea of leaves. And it pours.
» Posted By barefootink On 05.15.2012 @ 5:19 am
I’m sinking into the pool, swimming. Water filling my lungs as I reach up, grasping for empty air on dead fingertips. I sink and glide, hands outstretched into the suffocating emptiness. This is the feeling of disregard, the feeling of worries slipping away.
» Posted By barefootink On 05.14.2012 @ 6:22 am
I’m not as certain as I was before that we are separate beings in separate bodies in separate minds. Sometimes I wonder if we’re all shadow thoughts of our ancestors, shadow thoughts of our old selves. What is a thought, anyway?
» Posted By barefootink On 05.03.2012 @ 11:04 am
I purposefully splash in puddles when it rains. It’s fun, it’s freeing. I do it more than once, sometimes I don’t even wear my wellies or mudders. It’s best when you try it in barefeet and it’s always the perfect way to spend a rainy day.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.10.2012 @ 6:18 pm
The tree branched out and formed a canopy over the broken park bench sitting at it’s base. It’s arms swung wide, enveloping the bushes surrounding it with it’s shady embrace. The branches were thick, strong enough to comfort a human body during a mid afternoon nap.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.07.2012 @ 11:54 am
Ruby red slippers. What a strange story. A witch, a robot and a scarecrow. It seems like people had a lot more creativity back then though. Now we get movies like Snakes On A Plane… What a load of crap. I’m done…
» Posted By barefootink On 04.06.2012 @ 5:55 pm
Dorothy’s ruby slippers are not nearly as beautiful as real rubies: the rock hard sort.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.06.2012 @ 5:53 pm
I’m supposed to be a writer but my brain is busy flipping out at all this lack of connection. Everyone is so far away and what I’ve got right here is so important.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.04.2012 @ 9:12 am
They got on the train without me. Stepped off the plank and onto the hollowed out metal that would carry them to far away lands. They didn’t call or even turn their heads to wave to a metaphor of myself, a ghost: the hypothetical me wishing I were there. Waiting. Going. Hopping on the train beside them.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.15.2011 @ 12:07 pm
I’ve never been in a limo. I’ve sat in one, but I’ve never ridden in one. The opportunity has never arisen. And should I ever receive the chance to spend money on a limo ride versus doing something else, I would probably chose doing something else. There is a lot of fun to be had when presented with an opportunity to be amply spontaneous.
» Posted By barefootink On 06.03.2011 @ 11:07 am
The first night we camped by the lake, a bear came and stole dusty’s food bag. Like an idiot, I chased it. We chased a bear once and we survived. How many people can say that? It was just a black bear but I read later they are the most dangerous. They’re the least likely to stop eating you if they start. Terrifying. But we survived and I believe that bears are gentle, just like the stuffed teddys.
» Posted By barefootink On 05.05.2011 @ 8:35 am
Woah, them big tall things, with them big tall skeletons! I saw them at the zoo once. It was awesome. To see the big T-Rex running out of the woods, swiping his claws at the trees and gnashing his terrible teeth like the wild thing he was. He big the trunk of one, uprooting it from the groung. He accidentally hit a Brontosaurus in the neck with it.
» Posted By barefootink On 05.04.2011 @ 9:22 am
Which path do I chose? It’s the same question I ask myself everyday. The path will determine who I am, it will be everything that defines me. In the woods, I wonder if I’m lost. Even when I know I haven’t deviated from trail. I follow the white blazes, I go in the direction that leads North. Or South. Or follow the blue to the water. But it’s all in the cross paths, I could go somewhere I’d be lost and find something real but I don’t, I head straight.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.25.2011 @ 7:52 pm
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Everytime I climb a mountain I marvel at the view, or lack thereof, at the top. The entire time I climb, I wonder why. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I lock myself outside of civilization to romp wild and free with the animals? Why? What do I believe is waiting at the top? When I get there, I see. And it’s for miles.
» Posted By barefootink On 04.25.2011 @ 8:33 am