December 2008
21 posts
“Dad could sell whores in a vagina storm.”
– Nick Simmons (talking about his dad, Gene Simmons)
Once by the Pacific
“The shattered water made a misty din. Great waves looked over others coming in, And thought of doing something to the shore That water never did to land before. The clouds were low and hairy in the skies, Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes. You could not tell, and yet it looked as if The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff, The cliff in being backed by continent; It looked...
All she ever thinks about, is riding with the...
I’m always dreaming that I’m driving on the highway. I’m driving on a highway that I’ve travelled down at least three times a week my entire life. Here’s where the catch is. I have no idea how to drive. Yet I am driving. I suppose this is the miracle of dreams.
I had to leave; I guess you had to stay.
Why is it that writing thoughts out makes you feel better? It must provide some kind of closure. But how can writing out things that I think when no one is around, when no one that I will ever know will read them, provide closure? Sometimes I write things out and then just delete them. Same kind of relief. I do not understand this phenomenon. I always thought I’d like to have a journal or...
I don’t know how this works, but I hope it works well.