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1. We know that pigeons exist because we have seen pigeons and because we can see the effects that they have on the world and because we all agree that a pigeon is a particular type of bird that eats bread and bobs its head like a wind-up toy and is magnetized to find its way home and sometimes dies in the road, where we can pick feathers from its ( Read more... )

Give me sweet wine that smells like fingernail polish and magic markers, looks like cloudy water, tastes like juice from a plastic pouch in the middle school parking lot, late spring and we're almost teenagers. I remember that. Give me brains to poke my gloved fingers through, human, the color of putty and the texture somewhere between good grey ( Read more... )

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What I would like to know is how I can be grown up. I don't think it's to do with getting married, or children, or a job or a house, at least not for me. Although I agree with some of those oft-muttered curmudgeonly complaints that modern American culture cultivates infantilism and perpetual adolescence over responsibility and duty and ( Read more... )

If I were a normal woman, I would stand in a hallway filled with music with a plastic cup of beer in my hand and I would be wearing tall shoes and I would be smiling. And sound would not fill my mind with color or touch my skin like the great fingers of invisible giants, and I would drink the beer to drink the beer because I wanted to dance and be ( Read more... )

I feel self-conscious when I take walks sometimes because I don't go anywhere in particular, just around and around in big circles, and I'm not Exercising in spandex and I'm often barefoot and it's often about one in the morning. I worry that someone will think I'm up to no good. My town just had its annual Arts Festival, which is actually a ( Read more... )

1. Reading the news. It's like watching a far more complicated version of Rashomon every single day. It's like jigsaw puzzles. It makes me sad. I would probably talk about current events more often if I ever felt like I could say something more constructive than "it makes me sad." (Or angry. Or confused.) I think part of my problem is that I am, by ( Read more... )

Bayou-Grace talked about how quickly our normalcy falls off when we're alone, how a person without human company inevitably starts to go a little weird after a while. Maybe hours or maybe weeks, depends on the person, but it happens. The veneer of civilization and sanity slides around your feet like clothes you don't need for modesty in the empty ( Read more... )

So, I'm a good little circusgal in ridiculous makeup and holey tights and I don't break my nose and I am strong of back and flexible of leg. (We might go busking in Asheville this weekend, we acrobats.) And it rains outside, it rains and rains, and I've finally decided that I do like Jonathan Carroll novels after all, or at least some of them. And ( Read more... )