Friday, August 28, 2009

See In You

She wiped the leftover rain from the glass with longing in her eyes, and watched him watch her through the haze. The subdued colors of their souls are barred by this glass window. He fogged it up as much as his hot breath would allow, and drew a heart. She shook her head very slowly, then tilted her head. He went away, came back with a wet leaf. It had a lady bug on it. 'Luck,' she thought. He almost grabbed the pretty pretty bug (she thought), but it escaped, like most people and thoughts do. He looked at her through the glass again, his olive green coat trembling in the wind. She turned around, wondering what Klimt piece she wanted to show him. 'Water Serpents II,' she said to herself. She tore off the piece from her wall and held it up against the window. He leaned in, touched the color seeping through the rain drops. He looked up at her, her eyes glinted because of Klimt, he knew that. He had always known that.


He moved his hand away quickly though, for fear that the colors would bleed to death in this merciless weather they were having. His fingers were white, he had forgotten his gloves on a train somewhere. He looked back and Klimt was gone. Took her with him.



Tuesday, August 25, 2009

U.S Gov Clusterfuck.

I wonder if he's actually insecure. I wonder how hard he stares at the door, waiting for her to open it, somehow, maybe, perhaps. I wonder if he ever sees me beyond my pictures and my words, if he has any idea that there's a fleck on my otherwise porcelain skin. There was much speculation, earlier, about having to own up to your actions. Many bad dreams ensued, a deformed Romeo and autumn that would always stay. I suppose he observes her angular bed movements, his blood getting warmer and warmer under his very thick skin. He glances at her sideways, never head-on, he is careful and scared of what these angular moments mean. (Politics of emotions is an intelligent game he plays). I also suppose he makes her shape out of thin air and chases the dust she leaves behind. I feel sorry for himher (more him than her, really).



Then The End Happens.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

i don't mean to close the door but,
for the record,
my heart is sore.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

give me the keys to your hiding place

she lay there, quite spent, the thought of him too much to contain all at once. If it was not for the very toothy grin, the sometimes sideways glance and the loneliness she felt in the rain, her colorful curtain would never have to struggle as much as it did when the wind blew. She let things go, now, for long stretches at a time, temporarily immersed in a world that didn't exist in this one. There were tenses and dirty dishes rotting in the sink, the world whizzed past in sights and sounds. Smoke rings and waves formed a halo around the mustard bed as her thoughts wandered upwards over the mountain. It was all making sense, now, this growing up. It meant being someone who you feared you'd become your whole life, and living with it. It meant cutting out neat shapes of the people you loved and hanging them in your room, never to touch them again. It meant buying hoards and hoards of books, because humans just did not suffice. It meant all those things you saw in cinemas and heard in stories, all of it combined, wrapped neatly in cellophane paper.


(flick your cigarette, baby, kiss me)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

you wanted a blog post? here you go.

*giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle*

Friday, August 14, 2009

someone retorted another someone about Radiohead.

'I assume he gave this interview while in the fetal position, twitching gently back and forth on the floor in the middle of his darkened bedroom.'

What, turn out the lights? They find you in the dark.



( brilliant)

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

theme song of the day.

One day I may disappear
Don't be too surprised
'Cause I get tired of
Noisy alarms
and phone bills

And I don't think we're meant to stay here very long
I don't dream of bringing heaven down not like this
I'd rather move on

One day I may go for the longest walk
Don't be too shocked
'Cause I get tired of
Sneaky societies
and combat boots

And I don't think we're meant to stay here very long
I don't dream of bringing heaven down not like this
I'd rather move on
unfortunately, it is very easy for me to forget about you. about everyone.

Monday, August 10, 2009

I lay on the itchy grass, sweat and all, but there were no clouds to watch. I'm giggling out loud now.

you have not been paying attention

Arachnids know perfect geometry.

Friday, August 07, 2009

Pearl

him: He never quite knew what to do with her fingers.
They were tapping, now, on the edge of the table, as she picked out a meal.
He just sat there, transfixed, both by their delicate rhythm, and the silence. Always the silence. It had grown harder, recently; the pauses between their syllables more marked, the barbs at the ends of their sentences more pointed.
And he wondered why it was that they traveled in such tightly contracting circles, as if love collapsed, like graceless, lifeless equations, simplified to a single point.
'No distress'" she said. 'Not this time.'
So he put his fingers away, and stared at the coffee.
Fin.
her: Some day.
When no one is watching
I'm going to steal you, and put you away.
So I can be the only possessor of your stories.
him: That's kind of you.
her: I will put my ear to your mind, and let the transmission begin.
And only stop when rocks turn to glass.

Monday, August 03, 2009

yes, ok, and, alright.

There is a pause between love-making, a pause just after foreplay and right before the final stage. A surprise bite here, an ominous lick there. Where you hold the others head in your hands and you gaze far too deep into their eyes. You see everything, want, need, must-have, should-not. You see love and desperation, but nothing as to who the person really is. This pause seems like eternity, you see. Sometimes I feel it lasts in your memory longer than the love-making itself. Even though it is pitch dark and all you have to go by is your own hyperventilated breath. Even though it may be the moment you lose or gain something you thought you never had. Even though it is not included in what they tell you when explaining adulthood.



Even so, there is a pause.
Find me that.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

suits and ties and suicides

The universe is emotionless. On one such emotionless night, the sky was in a particularly playful mood. Clouds gathered like thick, cramped puffs of silver smoke in a sky-shaped blanket, and they decided to move in a horizontal fashion to fuck with the minds of mortals that like to gaze up from time to time. One such mortal, a distinctly dreamy, holes-in-her-soul type, gazed up like everyone else, but unlike everyone else, was caught in the silver linings. She threw down her rope and fruit on the concrete and rushed to the nearest grass patch she could find. She lay there, watching the little puffs pass by, the moon peeping through them from time to time. ' Its like heaven decided to swim today', she mused at her friend. ' Oyeeee you're not supposed to lie under the open night sky like that!', her friend exclaimed. ' What? Why?', she asked. ' Souls of dead people are wandering around at this time. Its better if we don't invade their privacy by staring so intently', her friend informed. She looked at her with utter disbelief. ' Preposterous', she mumbled and let the moon shine its borrowed light on her dull skin. ' It's getting late, we have to be home now anyway', said the friend. She had already gathered the girl's rope and fruit and waited for her to get up. The girl let out a big sigh of frustration and begrudgingly followed her friend home.


Many years later, too many years later, the same sky returned. The girl, with even bigger holes in her soul than before, didn't care to glance back even once.