afk
I'm gone to Italy for two weeks... my life sucks. I hope you all die in my absence.
poet, philosopher, musician, daydreamer, silent observer, useless, confused, waiting to be forgotten.
So, I was taking a piss tonight in a wine bar, when I noticed that right above the toilet was a picture of a dog on two hind-legs. It was an artsy photograph, and it looked like the dog was howling or something, but since the dog was standing completely upright, and it was a male dog, I could see what was left of its genetilia. You see, the dog appeared to have been neutered, however, I could see the bulge of its flaccid penis sticking out from its hairy pelvic region. I know that it's only arousing to see a dog when it too is aroused, but none the less, I was taken aback and turned on, and began to gain an erection of my own. Naturally, this made the rest of the urination process difficult, as my dick wasn't necessarily cooperating, but I did my best to carry on, pissing as normal. My urine is of course now covering the seat of the toilet, which I'm sure is welcome to every chick that saw me before I sprayed it, but to those others.... rest assured, I'm moderately good looking.
Richie went on, "It's true, I swear!"
Slip into a new form of obscurity. These are imaginings; these are the splotches of color that give life its beauty. Vague in description, themes that hint at a reality, but remain so removed from it.
Mrs. Hawkins happened to be walking down the hall as the boy lunged at Jason with his knife. Quickly stepping back to maintain his distance, Jason threw his knife at the boy, who immediately fell to the floor. Mrs. Hawkins ran up, "Why aren't you two in class?!"
He lay there still, looking up into the darkness, watching the sounds and colors of the events and reasons that would hang in the air above him. Drifting close, pushing back... doing their little dance of pretending to matter. These just the fragments of a life, effortlessly bearing whatever ill will they could muster.
I was walking home from the bar when I noticed a young child giving his father a high-five on the sidewalk. Inspired by the spectacle, I thought, "Dear Jesus, thank you for killing Luther Vandros... I know that we've had our differences, and that you took your sweet-assed time in getting the job done, but eventually, you finally got off your ass and killed that fuckhole. Amen."
By the way she made eye contact with strangers for a solid second before abruptly breaking off, I could tell that she was friendly, but socially awkward. Mid-forties, by my estimation - skinny, pale, with dark brown hair. I was standing in the subway car, and she was sitting near me, marking up a printed document.
William and Jason were playing with toy cars peacefully, when Jason's car went over an imaginary ramp and flew through the air.
So easily locked into a role; through opportunity and sway, we become things we never imagined. All is not as it once was - all is only as it is.
try to remember what this was supposed to be
-when I put myself here,
when I gave myself a reason
could it be that every day since was spent asking?
returning to that moment
a vague concept set forth with poor planning
given these hands and feet and mind
but held back from the meaning
the idea that triggered the event
a reason to begin and end
and to return to their cycle
given all but the eyes I need to put these hands to use
and day after day stands wasted
I had just finished my speech on the wonders of democracy. A little overwhelmed by the gratuitous applause, I made my way back to my seat.
The woman sat behind her desk, watching Mr. Chambers as he looked longingly at the bowl of jellybeans. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she looked over at Jason. "So, young man... what brings you and your father to our school?"