Comments Posted By mere
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Yoga in this town is what rich white women do to take the “stress” off their lives. They drive there after their husbands leave for work in their white SUVs (Lexus or BMW), then gossip, after which they grab smoothies or coffee in their workout gear. This is before shopping and meeting back up for a girls lunch, after which they go home to nap before picking up their children at school and complaining later to their husbands about their stressful day.
» Posted By mere On 05.05.2017 @ 1:36 pm
A simple man approached me and asked a simple question. What makes you happy? I had no answer at the time. What makes me happy?
» Posted By mere On 06.05.2015 @ 4:45 am
I went to the general store and I handed him a two-penny piece. He asked what I wanted. I asked him what I could get for two cents. He said he’d give me my piece back if I told him a joke. I said it was nice outside.
» Posted By mere On 09.22.2014 @ 11:02 am
At the forefront of my mind I found a shitstorm of anxiety, depression, and caffeine deprivation. I was strung out on sleeplessness. Overworked, underpaid refinement in my mid twenties. In the background, crept a seeping paranoia that I would live to old age.
» Posted By mere On 03.18.2014 @ 8:06 am
The dusty smell of worn leather and sweet hay hung like dust motes drifting through a streak of sunlight. I heard nothing at first, then a creaking of boards and heavy sigh behind the walls of his stall. He stuck his head out from behind, and I realized how alarming his size was once you got close. He was built to work, pull heavy loads, a giant in proportions. He was an animal whose potential power and destructive force made his peaceful nature surprising. His name was burned into a block of wood hung on the door – Senator.
» Posted By mere On 09.15.2013 @ 4:30 pm
She cradled the metal pitcher in her hand, the milk shushing up the sides in rising hot froth which lifted over the mug, a small pool of black pitch and sweet crema, deftly swept up into a marbled velvet foam.
» Posted By mere On 07.13.2013 @ 8:14 pm
He’s so shallow if you tried to delve into the seas of his subconscious you would break your neck.
» Posted By mere On 05.27.2013 @ 2:51 pm
The minute she picked up and I heard her voice, I started to cry. I tried to hide my sobs behind my hand and moved the receiver so she wouldn’t hear. When all she heard was silence, she said my name. She knew it was me, she knew the number. When I had dialed the number, the tonal beeps of each number as I pressed them evoked my tenacious sense of homesickness. Mom, I was calling my mom, crying on the phone on the floor of my apartment. A 25-year-old crying on the phone to her mother, because I just wanted to come home.
» Posted By mere On 01.12.2013 @ 7:31 am
Promises are so ephemeral. Will it be kept? Promises, made be someone who is true-of-heart, are like gold.
» Posted By mere On 01.08.2013 @ 12:59 pm
The last part of the application asked for references. I had never had a job before, and it was only making burgers. They would never call them anyway. I gave them three names…Mr. Shen Anigan, Ms. May Ham, and Ms. Kay Ahs.
» Posted By mere On 01.07.2013 @ 9:24 am
Any amount of sleep would deprive me of the right to have coffee, a logistical equation that is misunderstood for all time to come. The three, four, five cups a day are rising and threatening to reach Voltaire-esque levels.
» Posted By mere On 01.03.2013 @ 7:56 am
Today it’s hard to be patient with other people. Someone knocked on my door late last night and woke me up, and now all I want to do is go back to bed to make up for lost time. I am having trouble being patient, and I also think I may end up being a patient…at a mental hospital. I am going crazy with no sleep.
» Posted By mere On 12.13.2012 @ 11:25 am
I am determined to get up every morning. My eyes don’t always open as well as they should, my feet don’t always want to touch the icey floor, and my mind doesn’t always want to think about work, but I seem to manage all three six days a week.
» Posted By mere On 12.12.2012 @ 6:19 pm
You never mentioned you were all about the moon. You are a lumineer, a cadet, a lunar sport. You are made of stellar matter, fragments of light and energy.
» Posted By mere On 11.19.2012 @ 6:18 am
I used to lose sports games. Now I lose my cell phone, money, my favorite t-shirt. As long as I don’t lose my mind, everything’s ok.
» Posted By mere On 07.30.2012 @ 5:54 pm
Moss was starting to cover the splintering rail line, a clay rust mottling the iron and nails. The box cars bursting with prime colored graffiti held nothing else but a few mice, sprigs of alfalfa hay, and powdery dust.
» Posted By mere On 07.04.2012 @ 9:39 am
Sullen sunken strangers line up unshaven and dusty, slouching against the scuffed aluminum counter. Vats of viscous soups line the counter, scalding hot to dull the rotty sweetness of off-brand tin-can little-sham sludge for the damned. Curdled custard cream of mushroom, purulent spinach slop, a tomato soup slippery with congealed skin. One looks like mustard with little rusty flecks in it. A metallic gathering of soups to make the myelin decay off the nerves and drip down the spinal chord.
» Posted By mere On 06.26.2012 @ 9:11 am
I am emptying my apartment. It peels apart in layers. First I pack away the little things, the books, the coffee cups, the bobby pins on the floor. They stuff away into boxes that pile like little cities of cardboard skyscrapers pushed against the wall. Then the big things go, the bed, record player, bike, espresso machine. I strip off the photos and posters from the walls, rendering a shell of a room. It echoes and looks lonely, like the place I moved in to. It has a few more scuffs on the floor to keep it company, a coffee stain or two. The next tenant won’t know me, but they will know that I drank coffee, at least.
» Posted By mere On 06.04.2012 @ 11:49 am
Trying never to hit backspace is a dadaist ideal. Never to rewind. Erase. Regret. I only wish I could hit backspace on this year. But I would not want to start over, I would want to be somewhere else.
» Posted By mere On 05.17.2012 @ 2:34 pm
There is a little old lady who sits at the desk. She wears too much mascara and it makes her eyes bright. She cries easily, and gives hugs often. She says she can’t taste or smell anything. Coffee does not have any flavor but she drinks it anyway. What a shame.
» Posted By mere On 05.08.2012 @ 6:48 am
If I could find myself totally comfortable with being so utterly myself, so raw and yet so simply me, wouldn’t it be exquisite?
» Posted By mere On 03.25.2012 @ 10:12 am
The staples pinched the puckered red skin under her eye, swollen and blue around the edges. She thought that this was the end of her run as pageant queen.
» Posted By mere On 03.17.2012 @ 6:21 pm
I had beliefs, but I think I wrecked them all. I did things that I wouldn’t normally do, I was a fool and I denied my own nature. Now I second guess everything, hopeful always to meet someone new and special. But how do I commit to someone when I don’t even know myself?
» Posted By mere On 03.12.2012 @ 7:32 pm
When this crazy star that keeps us company
burns out in an asymptotic explosion
we will light this world with the generator
of ourselves and shine our brilliant light
on the universe and we will outshine
all the other stars so that even the milky way
couldn’t ignore our splendor
» Posted By mere On 02.28.2012 @ 4:18 pm
If they tried to track me down, they would find that the clues I leave behind are half-full cups of cold coffee, bobby pins, and bare footprints.
» Posted By mere On 02.18.2012 @ 9:08 am
All I want to say is thank GOD the word wasn’t “Valentine.”
» Posted By mere On 02.14.2012 @ 8:22 am
When I was 8, I had a friend who boarded shetland ponies. She would give me a leg lift and I would hop on it’s wide back, my legs dangling over each side. I’d grab onto its mane, press with my heels, and go. It’s smell was heavy and dusty, like old leather and knotholed wood.
» Posted By mere On 02.11.2012 @ 6:43 am
I’ve put up walls around us
made it into a maze
and dropped you in the middle
Now I’m trying to make it
back to you
please forgive me
you know I’m missing you
» Posted By mere On 02.08.2012 @ 10:13 am
I can feel my orbit changing from what it used to be. I will no longer revolve around anyone else but myself. And this is feeling like a good thing. Some real time to figure myself out. And find my own stars.
» Posted By mere On 02.06.2012 @ 1:44 pm
Back To Stats Page
with my little lense
hot asphalt and sun spots
Someone wrote “I love my momy”
in gumball pink on the sidewalk
there are kids sitting on the curbs
their bikes decorated with beads on the spokes
leaning up against the telephone pole
underneath the doves on the wire
and the pale sky
» Posted By mere On 02.05.2012 @ 2:11 pm