The Scene: A Darkened Living Room

Two lovers confront each other slowly, and not wanting to bring up the situation at hand play with their fingers, crack the joints, look around vaguely then say “It’s raining pretty hard, isn’t it?” The third person in the room, whom neither of them can see nor hear, replies, “Yes, it is.” He exits the room through a gaping hole in the wall into an alley suspended fifteen feet in the air above the neighbor’s yard, and asks unanswerable questions from all the mosquitoes that venture near him only to be stymied by his black aura. Below him an alcoholic, wet and shivering mutely pleads to be shocked out of the life he is living and to be taken back to when he was seventeen and just starting to fuck up his life. If he got to go back, he said, he would do it all differently. He wouldn’t have gone to those parties, he would’ve made curfew, he wouldn’t have started stealing those beers. He forgot to take off his watch when the rain started, and it is soaked through, black shivering emptiness where a sense of punctuality used to be long ago. The golden hands deftly twirl light from the streetlamp into needles and pins of glimmers. A deer starts running, is on some level hit by a car, but never stops. A great animal, the size of a military tank, wanders the monsooning city streets. I look out with a sensation of do-goodiness, and the feeling of luminescent ants covering my hands and genitals. I take another pill and sit down to read a book about about D.H. Lawrence’s life. I read a sentence, look up, and it is now DAYTIME. Light streams in around me, and a small child runs through my front door, wielding a hatchet and wearing a backpack inside which I can tell lies a pristine waffle-maker. Inside the walls of my house run streams of blackened hypersensitivity. We have questions, yes we have questions, but in our ear canals there are oceans, and if we turn our heads too quickly they will spill out and drown the world.

People live in the Midwest because there is a certain kind of beauty in watching things die. In the South, things die and grow all at once, in a kind of continuous cacophony of nature. In the middle states, things are born in the spring, grow in the summer, die in the fall, and all is a graveyard for the winter. Some people enjoy this; it is in their natures. Their genes resonate with the boom boom boom boom of the changing air, the cycle of scenes, the rich metaphor of weather patterns. For others, this chokes them; they need everlasting life. But the europeans, the folk in whose veins an understanding between them and death flows, they enjoy the battle. They feel in their bones that, while they might not live forever, they can live through death-of-the-land for many years, as a way to prove...something. I am not sure yet where I belong.

Probability and Angles

“Oh hey what are you doing what is up with you tonight my friend”
“Not too much can’t really say I’m up to anything what are you up to?”
“O I am just not doing much of anything with a couple of my friends if you get what I mean”
“What”
“Not doing anything if you catch my drift”
“O okay I see”
“Yeah should be a good time”
“Where are you going”
“Pat’s house”
“Ahhh Pat”
“Haha, yes Pat”
“How is Pat lately I have not talked to him lately”
“Pat’s been good he is graduating early and he’s got a job at that record store and shit”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah he has a girlfriend too she is pretty hot and…”
“and…”
“And pretty good if you know what I mean”
“Oh you bastard”
“Haha”
“Heheh”
“I’m gonna head out, see ya later man”
“Hey, mind if I come with”
[an awkward moment. the momentum of the situation appears to be at a crossroads. 1st young man has an unreadable countenance. the potential of antagony hangs in the air. the café is full of people and the sound of their conversations flows like pebbles being washed down a steep rock slope. the warmth surrounds them, the heat turned up to balance the below-freezing temps outside. 2nd young man has flushed cheeks from the heat, 1st young man seemingly unaffected by the temperature.]
“How about another time buddy, I’ve really gotta go this time”
“Okay that’s cool that’s fine”
“Alright cool see ya man”
“See ya”

I just read The Road and it made an impression on me, but what kind I don't know

"Hey"
"Hey. Why'd you wake up"
"Are we okay"
"Of course we're okay"
"Are you sure"
"Of course I'm sure"
"I don't feel safe"
"Baby, you're safe, I'm here, I'm watching, you're fine"
"…"
"Okay"
"Okay"
"…"
"…"
"Are you sure"
"I'm sure"

Emotional Investment #1

I couldn’t keep my eyes open. They just shut. At first all I could see was the light shining through my eyelids. My limbs were heavy, and I couldn’t seem to move them at all. Gradually the redness faded from my vision, and it all went gray. I could make out nothing at all. My limbs lost their feeling of heaviness, but now I could not feel them at all. I felt as if I could wave them about, but I could make contact with nothing, or even see them. Suddenly, as if a wave was washing away the grayness around him, a figure emerged. He was great, huge, far bigger than me. But he was also far off, enough that I could see him all without having to only see one part of him at a time. Looking, I knew who he was; Infinite Sadness. His robe was frozen in a tangled wind that did not blow, and his face was a mask frozen in the act of howled agony. I could almost hear his scream hovering in my ears like icy water, not moving, but detectable. When I reached the end of my endurance, I snapped into awakeness, my eyes still closed. The red filtered through my eyelids. Tears began to well up, but I feigned sleep.

The streetlights floated in the air. The pavement looked hard and orange in the light, and seemed to radiate energy. I started running, as light as a bird on the wing. I rushed along, and barely felt the impact of my feet on the sidewalk. Everything seemed to Be, and I could not help from laughing. I lost a part of me in the moment, and cannot remember when I ran out from under the lights back into dark.

My vision began shaking. The anger overtook me. My hands could not remain steady, and there was a lump in my throat. He reached forward and shoved my chest, and in the same movement I grabbed his arm and twisted him to the ground. I kicked him hard in the side, stomped on his chest, and slammed him in the temple with my heel. I slapped him and spat in his face. I screamed, and told him what a disgusting useless pointless fake utterly disgraceful waste of blood, air, and sex he was, how repulsed I was to even touch him, how much I hated everything about him, how I would order his death in a second, how he meant nothing to me, how horrifying it was to know he still existed, how I was at a complete and utter loss as to the point of a pale greasy sleazy shameful worm such as he. Then I ran as far and as fast I could. And then I cried until my eyes were sore.

The light played through the blinds as I lay by your side. And I knew, nothing could be so perfect as this.

Message In A Radio

Baby

Don't you weep. No don't you weep for me, for there is no one as lucky nor as gifted as I, for I have seen the sky torn in two and I have felt the light caress my face and

Darling

Don't you pray for me. Please don't pray, I've already gone and talked to God, and we figure the two of us have everything worked out okay, and there's nothing but smiles now, nothing but smiles

Sweetie

Don't you miss me now. No, you can't miss me, 'cause there is no one who is as happy, as light, or free as I, who can fly on the wind and soar through space and dive every depth and win every race and

Love

Please believe me now. Please believe, because I can't, and I'm still not sure.

Honey

egfiuhgiuaehfihgeuihgaghaeohgeohuodhgviuwhgrhurouhsghi3q2235258794285732328930
5270397#################################-----------------------------------
-------------------------__________________________________________________

I am weak, but I can control myself. I am weak, but I am stronger than you. I want to die, but I will live forever. I am surrounded by lies, but I will speak the truth. I am tired, but I can dream while I am awake. I will move mountains, and I will drink seas. I will scrape the sky with my hand, and I will warm my feet in the earth. The wind cannot blow me down, and space can not burn my skin. I am invincible. I am a giant. I am God's child.

You will not defeat me now, you will never defeat me, and you have not defeated me in the past. I will destroy whoever I do not love, and I will love everyone. You can not change who I am, you can only accept it.

I will breath in the dusk, and exhale the dawn. Do not fear; the dark will not hurt you, and the light will not blind you. You are freer under my protection than you were ever before.

I feel the want to destroy, but I will turn to the need to create instead.

I am nothing; I am everything.

I am-

A Story About Love

The light penetrated into the house; it forced its way in through the windows and lit up the rooms with a light that only served to make it easier to not trip, and did nothing to illuminate the spirit of the place. He was sitting at the kitchen table (actually, a card table he had found in a neighbor's garbage pile) waiting, when he heard a step on the porch stairs, and the door creak open. He got up and opened the door to the stairs, and as he caught sight of her she froze. The light seemed to pin her to the wall, accentuating her paleness and the lines on her face.

"What'd the doctor say?" She stared at him. He asked again, and the focused look in her eyes broke; "Oh, um..Can I come down there?" He moved out of the way and she finished descending the stairs.

"What's the news?" She looked at him over her shoulder as he began to shut the door. "No, leave it open."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I- I'm leaving." He stared back at her in something between disbelief and uncomprehension.
"I- I don't have long to go, and...I need to live." She walked into the bedroom and swiftly packed the suitcase standing by the door. "I love you, you know that, but..I need see and do as much as I can before, well...Before I can't any more. And I need to do it alone."

He sat down suddenly at the table, seemingly stunned or concussed. She walked back out holding the suitcase. "I left your half of the money on the nightstand.." He stared dumbly at the floor. "Darling, don't make it be like this, can't you tell me you love me and goodbye one last time?" Her eyes began to moisten as he continued to silently stare down the floorboards. She walked over, kissed his forehead, and murmured, "I love you sweetie." There was no reply, and after a moment she said, "Bye.." and walked over to the stairs and ascended them to the outside world. As the front door shut, the light seemed to dim even further.

With the way he was holding his head in his hands, it was hard to tell who was dying faster.

A Brief Epilogue Of A Middle Class Family

The man walked into his childhood home. The lights were out, and he stepped forward with his arm out, trying to find a wall with a light switch. His hand met something solid and cold, and spasmed, sending it falling off the mantelpiece. A few seconds later he found the switch and light flooded the living room.

The drone of the vacuum permeated the house as it ate up the fluffy grey ashes in the carpet. The man's mind was locked inside his skull; his facial expression was unreadable. He finished the task, unplugged the vacuum, and carried it outside. As he tossed it into the garbage can, he murmured, "Sorry Mom, but it's my choice what to do with him now." A haze of grey flew up into the air only to be met and captured by the falling lid.

He reentered the house, and sat down in the old recliner stationed across from the tv. He stared at the tv a few moments and then lept up and smashed it in with his foot. He turned back around, grabbed the chair, and pulled it onto its side. He then proceeded to pick up a lamp and hurl it through the window before turning out the light by punching the switch, finally getting into his car and pulling out of the driveway quickly and recklessly, only to collide with another car speeding down the road, ending in a messy collision that had absolutely no good consequences for anybody.

Usually I'm okay but sometimes my mind kinda spins kinda wanders out of control and I don't know where you are but I know you're okay I hope you're okay I hope you're alright nothing's happening, I hope nothings happening, but I'm sure something's happened oh God no God no no no- And my mind just drops just falls just flies right away and I can't grab it or catch onto it or hold it in place or anything, it just disappears and I don't know what it's doing where it is but it hurts it's making me sick I'm sick and everything just feels dim you know? Dim? Like, it's, you know not quite there no it is there but you can't change it it's just a backdrop you're etched into you're just an etching you're nothing but a little scratch on a wall and I'm stuck I can't breath move I can't move from where I am and suddenly I'm still frozen paralyzed but suddenly I break through and cry and freeze again with tears on my face as the world outside growls at me it growls and I know it'll bite me, it's going to bite me, don't let it bite me.

Please, baby...Please.

Whirlwind Roma(Maturation)nce.

It was her day, but it was not freely given. While the pews were packed with friends and relatives, they were also filled with whispers and rumors. "I just cannot see them together for more than a week." "Did you know that they just met a few days ago?" "She's making a mistake.."

She smiled nervously as the pastor spoke, and looked sideways at the man standing next to her. He caught her eye and turned the corner of his mouth up in a way that resembled the very, most reduced level of a smile. She turned her gaze back to the pastor, squinting slightly in the light that was coming in the window behind him.

Her soon-to-no-longer-be fiancé was a good man, and would care for her dearly despite the slight age gap. He had no serious faults or vices, and was not hard to please. He respected her as a woman, and enjoyed the respect she gave him as a successful, well-rounded man.

Outside the leaves were unfurling, only to turn red and orange in a few months and drop to the ground, lifeless and dead. But nobody mocked them from inside that small, old church. Nobody took away from them the lesson the girl had, either.

If We Find Each Other, We Won't Be Completely Lost

He slid down the gravel slope, stumbling and kicking up dust. You could tell by the awkwardness of his movements that he wasn't used to the area. When he got to the bottom, he looked around. It was an odd effect; the massive stone columns and the bridge overhead gave him the impression that he was indoors and out of scale. For all he could imagine, it was a huge table with a family of giants eating dinner above him. He strolled along, gazing at the graffiti and old cans of spraypaint. Suddenly he heard a sharp sound up ahead of him, and looked up.

She had just ducked behind a support, and he could see a bit of her hair hanging out past the edge of it. He quietly ran toward her, and when he was about 10 feet away, she peeked out around it and shrieked in laughter. She took off farther down the underbelly of the bridge, with him pursuing her.

She ducked behind another pillar and his sneakers left marks on the concrete as he skidded to a stop and changed direction. After about ten minutes of this, he was exhausted and had lost sight of her. He was leaning over, with his hands on his knees, trying to slow his breathing, when she called from behind him. "Hey." He stood up and turned around, and she walked toward him. They reached out towards each other, but just as they were about to embrace, a man called out, "Hey, stop right there!" They looked, saw a police officer sliding down the gravel slope at the other end of the bridge, and made a break for it. As they ran, their velocities slowly changed until they had split far apart, and were scrambling up opposite sides of the gravel ridge. He looked to her in desperation, but she only smiled, panted, and mouthed "Run!"at him. Then she jumped up and climbed out of view, and he did the same.

Visitor On A Summer Evening

You were standing at the sink, doing the dishes, and you were beautiful. The setting sun was casting a dusky yellow light on your face, and you were humming to yourself.

I drove 300 miles to come see you, and I didn't even tell you I was coming. I didn't even know if you wanted to see me.

I took a step or two forward, reached out, almost touched you, but stopped. You were oblivious, I moved too softly and the floor was too well built for creaking. I ached to say something, but- I left you, and you had recovered, and who was I to wreck that?

I turned sharply away, and you spun around in shock. I ran from the room, through the hallway, and burst out the front door. As I jumped into my car and drove off, I could see your pale, frightened face staring after me out the screen door.

I hope this puts to rest all your fears about that man who snuck up on you in your kitchen that one evening, darling. He was no predator, or ghost. Just someone who had made a mistake. I love you.

If The Romans Lived In Glass Houses

If home is where the heart is, I live inside my chest. And if I am unable to lie convincingly, people can see right through me. Therefore, I have a chest made of glass. Also, if my chest is glass, the rest of me therefore must be too. So, we have established beyond all doubt that I am an organism of living glass, seeing as I cannot lie convincingly. And as my chest is my home, I live in a glass house.

I have a garden with rocks in it, and every day I spend at least 7 hours forcing myself to not throw them, to leave the rocks in the garden, to not pick them up and pitch them and watch the panes come crashing down, like a shower of brittle snow, beautiful and sharp and dangerous, but mostly beautiful.

There Was An Empty Pack Of Cigarettes And A Bottle In The Photobooth, And I Wonder..

The girl in the photobooth polaroid liked kittens. She had brown hair, and liked to wear flowers in it. She had brown eyes. She liked wearing a faded print dress with flowers and sparrows on it. She liked tea with a lot of milk, and sometimes coffee so strong almost anybody else would spit it out as soon as it touched their tongue. She had smooth teeth, with slightly bigger than average spaces. She had a beautiful smile. Her laugh was musical. She could play the guitar, sing, and keep time with handclaps or a tambourine. Her skin was soft, and her body gave back just as much heat as it took. She was full of love, and never harmed anyone or anything.

The boy in the photobooth polaroid had bad breath, a weak chin, and in all fairness was kind of an asshole.

Arthur Brown, 22, Plays The Guitar And Sings

The thawing clothing smells disgusting, but it's a job. Playing music in a cafe in a mountain town, full of skiers, snowboarders, snow-shoers, photographers, lovers, miscellaneous people. Besides, my car is busted and I can't find anybody to fix it. It's rusting out in back of the motel that I've become a permanent visitor to.

Oh well. It may not be the greatest, but it's a life. At least I'm making a living playing music, I hadn't thought I was ever gonna be able to do that.

But my feet are cold and my shoes are soaked from the slush in the streets and I don't know any of these people and I don't care about them and I've got nothing back at my room and my car's a wreck and I've got nothing at home, and I don't even think I've got a home any more, and you know what? I don't care about anything, and I don't want to be here, I want to be anywhere *but* this godforsaken town of shallow, beautiful people.

My acts' on in ten minutes, I oughta put that emotion into my next song.

If Car A Is Moving At 139 KPH Towards Car B...

The dotted yellow line got eaten up by the hood of the car. Its appetite was ravenous, apparently; the dots were only visible in the screen of the windshield for a second or two before they were consumed. The car moved quickly, quickly, a bullet shot by its own impetus.

The sun gleamed down, reflecting off the body of the car. It was a hot day, and the air felt as if it could reach out and burn somebody.

Suddenly the appetite for dots was filled; the car veered into the other lane, and appeared to want to eat another car. Cannibalism!, screamed a lone cloud in the sky.

A person cried in shock and alarm. Then there was silence.

Give Us This Day Our

We are made in the image and likeness of God but. where is the image, what is the likeness and who is God? Is he a big human, are we little gods? Is it our minds, our fibers, our fictions, our loves, our flaws, our? The wilderness is floating overhead, and I am lifted from everything. I will return to the One that gave me birth, and I will fragment and hover and blow away on the wind like warm stale air pushed away by a breeze. And I will become the breeze, and fly up to heaven, and dance there, and laugh with the other breezes, the other souls, the dead and the not yet living. And we will spin and wheel under the sun that is the Father, and it will somebody's birthday every single day, and there will be parties and cake and ice cream and there'll be a sprinkler in the sky, like rain but even purer, and we'll dance in our swimsuits or our birthday suits if we prefer, there'll be no lust and no shame. And when we're tired of walking on the ground, we'll walk on the air. And when we're tired of being awake, we'll fall asleep in lovers laps, and everyone will be our lover. And it will all be pure and shameless and I won't feel bad about it. You'll be there all the time, whenever I want you, and it will be perfect. And we'll run off by ourselves and gorge ourselves in a strawberry field, and Einstein will be 3 rows over hiding between the bushes, and we'll laugh. And oh, Darling! It'll be heaven, I promise! It'll be just like Heaven, and the sun will be just like God, and there will be Jesus and the Holy Ghost and Buddha and Mohammed and John Paul II and Darwin and Elvis and all these people! They'll all be there, and there'll be ice cream and mashed potatoes and limes and lemons and everything, it'll all be there and we'll never run out and we'll feel the Lord in everything like electricity, He will sing our bodies electric with His magnificent song and I won't have to cry anymore, you won't either, because we'll all be dead, and if we cry it'll just be for fun. It'll be so much fun!

In All Times And All Places

Puella quam amo est pulchra. Meisje I liefde is aardig. L'amour de la fille I a les yeux les plus jolis dans le monde. Die Liebe des Mädchens I hat weiche Haut. Θα περπατούσα σε όλο τον κόσμο τρεις φορές για την. Nuoterei i mari più profondi ed arrampico le più alte montagne. 私は彼女を愛する。나는 그녀를 사랑한다. Eu amo-a. Я люблю ее. La amaré por siempre.

Vacation

let's break the sky into a million pieces and scatter them inside our heart attacked hearts pushing the boundries of space and horizon twisting the boundries of love and time and leaving us alone in a special place with each other and no one like the the stars all glistening and twinkling in the sky above us that's all ours and only ours, i bought it and kept it just for you my love.

let's run through walls and sink through the earth and walk back through time and find a place where no one knows our faces or our names we're perfectly anonymous naked on a ridge of dirt and plants and rocks and stones over a great city no one ever knew of in a land no ones ever heard of in a time that nobody remembers just together and never apart.

let's lie down in the summer on the cool grass in the hot sun in the quiet forest and forgive each other for not being in our arms every second of every day and fall in love over and over again like the waves in the sea or the air as you're talking to me.