November232012
Imagine me
as
the space between your fingertips.
You hold your hand
up
while looking at midnight ceiling
pitch black noise
smeared across the blinds.
Now
see me.
See me every night
in darkness
when everything but sleep
befriends your bed.
Me,
painted across
your cosmic ceiling
burning warmth
into your shivering
body.
7AM
your
tale
would be best if
I
was
trapped in the waters of
you
rather than
at the bottom of the
Mountains.
November202012
Writing to Vent wOoooooOooOOoOOoO
It’s just one of those nights where all kinds of loneliness are what I wear to sleep. There’s the simple kind where I am simply alone at the moment, girlfriend just left for a little back home today. But it starts getting more complicated when I realize the world changing around me every second I’m away from home and the ever necessary self dependence is lingering as the world does for Atlas but I’m only 19, I’m only 19, and sometimes I feel older, so much older, but let’s face it, I’m only 19, I’m only 19. And most days I don’t miss the old days because however much I reflect on it I can’t paint a good time out of my high school because anything that was good was ruined by my lack of artistic ability or was never good in the first place so all of my perfect memories lay in people who I hardly saw then who I hardly see now, it’s been months and it’ll be a month more now. Yet I still find myself some days wanting to heal all of the fractures I helped create, but some people just aren’t complacent and in some cases neither am I. It’s just one of those nights where anxiety is my pillow that will whisper to me all night so that these thoughts will probably still exist in the morning, as Conor says, “what’s easy in the moonlight by the morning never is” so what do I do when the moonlight paints shades as gray as now.
November182012
you’ll find me you always do she said you always do she said I always look for you I said but never see you I said I know she said but yet you still find me she said you always do she said you always do she said you always will she said.
My life is a constant work of writing new things.
November152012
Me at a typewriter typing up my short story “The Dust and the Dirt.”
She was “A Breath of Life” among the dust and the dirt, the roof of wind, the murmuring bones, the abandon ships, the roof top, the laughing stones, the trees, the Spanish moss, the ocean, the dunes, the broken windows, the ringing snare, the knocks on doors, the maps on walls, the home, the home, the home.
November142012
Currently typing the short story I posted earlier on my girlfriend’s typewriter.
Pictures will be posted later!
October162012
The Dust and the Dirt
Does anybody want to check out my almost 20 page short story entitled The Dust and the Dirt and give me feedback afterwards?
I want to get more feedback from people, and if you would like to read it just send me your e-mail and I’ll send it. If for any reason I get a lot of people wanting to read it, I’ll limit the number I send it to, just because I want to do more with this short story (possibly publishing it) and don’t want to just hand it out quite yet.
So let me know! Send me an ask or just reply to this and I’ll get it to you soon.
October102012
I just finished another short story!
I’ll probably post it tomorrow and will be looking for feedback. So be prepared!
October12012
Living Vision.
Here’s a story in which the majority of it was written in the margins of a couple of pages of a notebook. Enjoy!
