February 2011
7 posts
6 tags
“An Exercise In Indifference, or, How I Learned To...
“There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature.” - Stephen Stills
It’s cold out tonight, colder than normal, and the wind slaps and jabs the skin of your face and hands like a taunting boxer. Or maybe it’s colder this particular night because you’re tired and, having eaten no more than a salad and some peanuts (along with a fair share of...
January 2011
4 posts
2 tags
"pivot and step, find a new path, larger than the...
i saw this one specific piece written on the side of a box in the middle of a coffee shop that had several different aspects to it, none of them pertaining to the next, and all of them irreplaceably special and unique. the backside of my brain began to throb and split and a million tiny fissures in my skull reminded me of the one time in 2nd grade when i saw nathaniel eating the stucko off the...
sections of abbreviated thoughts - pt. 1...
a million different cycles. we’ll spin around and around. this is a separation of difference. and i’ve found no place to find ground. we are several and few and our place in between is not here and not there but wherever we see. it is happening now, it is clear that we are nothing more that a shimmering star, a slivery speck of forgotten dust in the clouds. though we think and we feel like we’re...
3 tags
i’ll find nothing in the fabric of space and of time that will allow me to transcend what this life of mine has become.
um…what?
you heard me. everything that was any everything that ever will be is hidden away from me, in a place i can never reach, in a time i can never see.
okay. i think-
no. don’t think. don’t think, don’t speak, don’t do anything that...
4 tags
May, 2008 - The last time I wrote a "short"...
“Spaceman”
A silver flask sits at the edge of a nightstand in a stylish, high-end hotel near the east side of Orlando. Gideon Nebuls slumps in a brown chair on his balcony. Lean arms drape over the leather armrests. His room is on the 4th floor. It’s late afternoon, and the sun has just begun its nighttime routine while the rain continues to fall from the mottled sky. Gideon listens...