'friends' only here/out

'i'd rather not,' he said, making the most common mistake of his generation. the space between strangers is a couple feet, a sentence or two, and thousands of years of developed social inhibition. again and again they choose the time to think over the time to find something to think about. or they stop smiling because they're tired of not getting ( Read more... )

the food was salty and water expensive, but what mattered was the empty sky that stretched above the rooftop tables and out over dry mountains and ridges filled with unmelting ice. or for some what mattered were the sludge wedges laced full with hashish, and the cities of dark windowless buildings that loomed up from a land as near emptiness as any ( Read more... )

little bits of time that should be spent shaving and washing my face or getting through the autonomic nervous system and motivation once and for all are instead being filled with awkward left-handed scribbles and vonnegut and this and pop tarts. these little cold bits of time are getting broken up finer and finer from the frozen blocks of ice that ( Read more... )

choose your words carefully. be silent often, and when you speak, do it with a quiet amusement and a simplicity that borders on cryptic. be beautiful in a way that is somewhere between artsy and european, but not too much of either. keep some talent or generosity hidden, to be discovered after initial intrigue has passed. have many friends that do ( Read more... )

a blue smudge rubbed in remembered. lists ( Read more... )

'i'll have what their having,' she said, looking over his shoulder to the table in the corner. their eyes didn't meet. silverwear clinked and coffee made that ripping sound, fighting with air for passage through the lips ( Read more... )

upwell swell, fill to the point of release or expulsion or collapse, whisper yell scratch your throat burn your tongue fall forever but never catch up with still. the door propped open a door propped shut ( Read more... )

nothing i do here is what i'm supposedly here to do. i'm wasting time in more ways than i can count, convincing myself that i'm not smart enough to think things through because the logical truth i come up with is in such opposition to what i want to hear. sports are kidding me with the semblance of activity and the chemical rush of exhiliration. ( Read more... )

we all talk louder as our headaches intensify and all the music from the night tangles into a throbbing dissonance. a root catches my foot and brings the grey stone wall to my left into sharp focus. a black picket fence completes the enclosure, rusty iron and fallen maple leaves coldly impassive to my incongrous presence. the second theme of the ( Read more... )