Monday, July 27, 2009

lights out

'Sometimes when your father gets upset, he likes to go out for a walk', she said to the wide-eyed, nodding children. They watched her warm body move like spun silk in the kitchen. Her bangles tingling as she moved inanimate objects around. Their identical heads of jet black hair turned and ran as she told them to go pick out a book for her to read. In the meantime, she was busy perfecting the tea she was making for him. Honey-flavored green, with sprinkles of cinnamon. The cup protested delicately when she stirred the wet leaves too fast. She calmed down and pulled her shawl closer, glancing nervously at the clock. She could hear the children bickering playfully and laughing. The night wind howled at her pristine glass windows. The sound made her deathly afraid, although she'd never admit it, as she went to draw the curtains. The children did not dare to ask any questions as she silently tucked them in later. They searched their mother's eyes before the dream chariot approached to take them away. She cleverly avoided inquisitive innocence. Lights out, door closed, and that was that.

He came home when the wind stopped howling. The tea had long been cold by then, particles settled at the bottom. He looked around at the unwavering, empty house and slowly made his way up the stairs. She slept there, in his bed, at the far end of one corner. 'I hate you', he said, but she was already fast asleep.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

you are the flower to my cactus.

I will be edgier and blockier. We can keep playing these games and you can keep chasing me till the barb wire net tears through my soul and pins me down. You can pick me up by my broken wings and lay me on a branch to pass away in silence, like we do with the butterflies we tamper with. I will make you do things you thought could never be done, stir your passions in the wake of silence.
Someone told me you had oceans in your eyes.
I take my shell cup and drink till my lips bleed.

Monday, July 20, 2009

no service

You bite through the big wall
The big wall bites back
You sit there and sulk
Sit there and bawl
You are so pretty
When you're on your knees
Disinfected, eager to please


It's bad that I don't really pay attention to peoples' names around here. I just conveyed a message to a guy who's name I think is Jeff, but I can't be sure. I took my chances however, and it turned out to be right! yay!
But then I forgot who the message was from, so back to square one I guess.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Videotape in reverse


red lipstick afterparty

So the first ever happy hour went quite well, thankyouverymuch. Subtle coworkers spread their wings when they shed their silk ties and slip out of heels. We stood in the aqua green alley talking about Jews and Gujjus and models and stealing each others' fries. It was fun, and really nothing to blog about, but why not at the same time.
I found a bottle of Casorzo. That's in italics because people know how long I've been looking for it. Cost me $13 but its going to be goodgoodgood. refer here .
What else? Peech is back from the beach thank GOD. He is currently air-drumming to Mashuga right on my head. He is shirtless, very very dark and explaining the connection between math rock and metal.
This weekend will be good for unwinding and thinking.

Current mood : Orange was the color of her dress, then silk blues- Charles Mingus

Friday, July 17, 2009

i did some quick calculations, and even though my heart sinks as i say this, its weird to admit that it is friday. already. this week has been one very long day, i don't know how and when i get up and out, change or eat.
I walk really close to walls in hallways, and I smile inside at childhood memories.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Don Ramon Red Wine

makes for Mad Men and Happy Times.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

buttered popcorn

Hart is caged behind a thick wall of bamboo sticks. Talk to me, please. Before I peel away the sides of my eyes and my lashes fall like autumn leaves to the ground.

She dreams she has become very little, and walks around wearing a white tent, housing people who don't have one.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

does 11:11am count?

Wait for it. Everything is going to spill forth momentarily. I concentrate on words such as 'Print Screen' and 'Dr.Guerny'. I am jaded, fixated. Yesterday I woke up sucking a lemon. Everything is that much more relate-able right now. I feel every pore open and close, the heat generated in my face and my fingertips from the green tea I made. Looking, but not seeing anything. I am so, goddamn scared for my life. I honestly don't think I'm going to survive for very long. Does it matter, then, whether my casket is royal blue velvet, or whether I know how to ride a horse or not, whether I pick at the lint on my shirt or just leave it there? My existence is cubical. We've got heads on sticks. I'm not sure if I want to be the one doing the ordering around, then later be responsible for consequences. Turn out like Madoff, Palin, Cobain, Bhutto.
2:46 minutes into 'All I Need' makes my blood run faster in my body, and my hands clasp firmly together in prayer.

Thursday, July 02, 2009


while you are away
my heart comes undone
slowly unravels
in a ball of yarn
the devil collects it
with a grin
our love
in a ball of yarn

he'll never return it

so when you come back
we'll have to make new love