move over jenny lewis dot j p g
i'm just born to be bad.
today, i said: "sometimes i think the better you become at writing, the better you've become at lying. maybe varying your sentence structure is just exaggeration."
when i was walking to class, the light came through the construction site just so & caught the orange netting like flame, like the whole twelve stories of wall-less rooms were alight, burning in the afternoon. when i take shortcuts through the theatre alley at night, i want to climb: the theatre's fire escape, the skeleton of the hotel, to the top level of the parking deck. i always want to be high up at night so i can see stars above & lights below & feel like i am living in between the glass & the reflective metal of a mirror.
i am writing stories & pressing my secrets tight between the lines. i wonder if i will be able to find them when i read the stories over again.