February 2012
13 posts
1 tag
Music
Pianos are blue just as drums are mountains growing from the crinkled ground. A piano note is sad and lonely even if it is a derivative on a score’s scale, even if brass is jumping and spreading like a blanket beside it. Blue is a wave like the sea. Blue is a silver droplet of the sea. Piano is letting go of a loved one’s hand, finger by unclasping finger, in snowfall. It is the warmth...
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Finished my short story for short story class. It is very bad. So bad I want to kill myself. But I’m sure if I continue to work on it even after this course has taken its course, one day my story will grow to be good enough to win Grammys.
“I am a man who believed that I died 20 years ago. And I live like a man who is...”
– Malcolm X
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The reward, my lady, I do not desire. Den Dank, Dame, begehr ich nicht.
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mynameisbenhail:
How do I explain to my counselor that I get emotionally invested in TV shows so it becomes feasibly impossible for me to kill myself?
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“…and Saigon smelled of tar and motorcycle exhaust and cordite but when I opened the window and turned to my wife, the room was full of a wonderful scent, a sweet smell that made her sit up, for she sensed it, too. This was a smell that had nothing to do with flowers but instead reminded us that flowers were always ready to fall into dust…”
- Robert Olen Butler, A...
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I am an invisible man.
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I remember when summer was just beginning and I told a girl that summer was nearly over and she asked me what I was talking about because summer was just beginning and I shrugged and I remember when summer was nearly over.
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“Well, it’s all downhill from here,” said the man, who’d just felt a calming wave wash over his head, where years of copying and typing and copying had stayed put for years and years more, as he held the rifle to his chest, slipped off his right loafer, and reached out with his toe for the trigger.
