Mai 2012
8 Einträge
2 Tags
this is a PSA (by amanda) no longer will we have our innards eaten out by boys with greedy hands. ”i don’t wanna be called a fucking bitch when i’m getting fucked.” we’re queens, we wear flower-crowns. ”he left my body in a field, light pouring from where my skin had been.” don’t worship us. we need space. i’m a filthy slut. no, he’s a malcontent, he’s good at acting. we like fucking (we have...
BEAUTIFUL AS A STATISTIC
twenty two times the sun has risen and set and the world keeps growing without you fast. without you it’s 2012, and most days that is a large thing there is no arm to cling to but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not to the world of men and women when the world grows it
I couldn’t paint you. No faces, no fingers. They broke like hard-boiled eggs on the tiled floor. resist-psychicdeath: Your mom picked out those tiles. She felt like a cowboy. She felt like Frida Kahlo. I bet your mom took a lot of acid. I’ll bet she fucked the life out of anyone with black hair. She watched us from the window in the door.
Do you like my house? It won’t burn.
This is a List of
Electrician, Driver, Hiker, Fisherman, Maths & Sciences student, aggressiveness, unshaven, loud-mouthed, Logical Philosopher, Atheist, carries a knife, has a gun, Mohawk, argumentative, arrogant, noticeably undress women with her eyes, Pervert, Don’t cook, genius, scars
(by amanda (could deflower a zombie))
April 2012
2 Einträge
we dated and she’s an incredibly important person that i lived with for a long time, but it’s about that time in a relationship that i was going through; you’re in a relationship because you need help, but that’s not necessarily why you should be in a relationship. and that’s skinny. it doesn’t have weight. skinny love doesn’t have a chance because...
stiff kittens
März 2012
16 Einträge
Love’s essence is this: any two things unite, with a double effect; firstly, the destruction of both, accompanied by the ecstasy due to the relief of the strain of separateness; secondly, the creation of a third thing, accompanied by the ecstasy of the realization of existence, which is Joy until with development it becomes aware of its imperfection, and loves. A∴A∴
2 Tags
juana, a silver can on the Appalachian dirt, circled in fighter skulls. she keeps her eyes on the wrist bones sleeping near the nest of mice. this path is mine, this acre. the dead belong to me. i’ve collected them since birth. amanda could deflower a zombie.
vyr: the person in my hotel room before me left a diary with one page of writing in it it reads:
rental car kerfuffle… ethiopian guys arguing abt “super tuesday.” PC talk, food, cool guys. somalian cabbie / their pal picks me up. we listen to somalian music - my request. He doesn’t like ethiopian food. work work, then he picks me up. Hotel $ kerfuffle gets sorted. Sigh. need a corporate...
K A T A S T R O P H Y W I F E —- Blue...
you were last seen walking through a field of pianos. no. a museum of mouths. in the kitchen of a bustling restaurant, cracking eggs and releasing doves. no. eating glow worms and waltzing past my bedroom. last seen riding the subway, literally, straddling its metal back, clutching electrical cables as reins. you were wearing a dress made out of envelopes and stamps, this was how you travelled. i...
3 Tags
Honey, I come to you. Honey, with everything I’ve got. Peel me till I’m small enough. For you. You require broken birds and small bones. I suffer your love along with myself. Honey, give me your lungs. I’ll keep them lonely. Close your eyes until I can help you see. —-amanda
i wear my garment so it shows
“somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have...”
– e. e. cummings, from “somewhere i have never travelled”
was die Bahn an einem Montagmorgen erträglich macht /bauchpinseln nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever...
4 Tags
i. again, the child is sick ii. mother says the faucet spews death in sickness and in health iii. under the bridge the stones are rough hewn, scented yellow, colored in piss iv. you’re too old to hide beneath her skirts v. you’re too young to sleep beneath the bridge vi. again, mother is crying vii. on the seventh day, forget : crevice sewn : stalks escape the jagged edge(iii) : abandon...
1 Tag
Passing to Where?
Sometimes I take out my passport, look at the photograph of myself (not very good, etc.) just to see if I exist
Februar 2012
39 Einträge
maybe i need you the way that big moon needs that open sea maybe i didn’t even know i was here til i saw you holding me give me one room to come home to give me the palm of your hand every strand of my hair is a kite string and I have been blue in the face with your sky
2 Tags
2/23/12 baby’s gonna tell you about life. just wait a minute here, she’ll be right down. she can show you how she’s practiced singing. she can tell you her words. baby comes down from the haystacks. she drops her lipstick. “i told him it was the reaction to his bullshit.” and that’s what needed to be said. hey pussycat, chew it well. this gamey shit’s got strings. the blood’s still...
love isn’t always magic. sometimes it’s just melting.
or its black and blue where it hurts the most last night i saw your ghost pedaling a bicycle with a basket towards a moon as full as my heavy head and i wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that basket like ET with my glowing heart glowing right through my chest and my glowing finger pointing in the direction of our home
...
1 Tag
(so apropos: saw death on a sunny snow) him: “for every life…” her: “forego the parable.” him: “seek the light.” her: “…my knees are cold.” (running home, running home, running home, running home…) her: “go find another lover; to bring a…to string along!” “with all your lies, you’re still very...
(man wird nicht als soldat geboren, als soldat stirbt man)
Das bürgerliche Bildungssystem: Wo passive-aggressive noch gewürdigt wird. / F.
ἀλλα καμ μὲν γλῶζζα ἔαγε, λέπτον δ’ αὔτικα χρῶι πῦρ ὐπαδεδπόμακεν, ὀππάτεζζι δ’ οὐδὲν ὄρημμ’, ἐπιγρό- μειζι δ’ ἄκουαι no: tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin and in eyes no sight and drumming fills ears
— from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho translated by Anne Carson
when she stops kissing you with her mouth open, find the screw driver. buy a newly cut shank of beef. leave so much blood in the kitchen she has to ask what happened. when she no longer calls you baby, hide all the silverware between the couch cushions. send her there to sleep. if she does not complain, let the sinks in the bathroom overflow. bake the wedding photos in the dryer. stand in the...
women don’t need any reason to fall out of love.
NECK: Everybody knows you, installation of conjugal bliss. NOSE: Everybody knows you, tapestry of forgotten ideas, crystallization. NECK: Everybody knows you, formula for a song, running board of algebra, insomnia number, triple-skinned machine. MOUTH: Everybody does not know me. I am alone here in my wardrobe and the mirror is blank when I look at myself. Also I love the birds at the ends of lit...
i’m sorry that i’m getting chubby and i cannot always be happy for you and i am not some lame sorority queen taking you home to meet my Daddy you collect your trust fund baby and i’ll be a whore and we’ll pretend we’re just the same but i know i KNOW i know i know that i, i am hiding the YOU i show to YOU is just a lie [..] yr baseball bat words razormouth ...
1/19 ”it all tortures you. people you can’t have. things going wrong. things going perfectly.” 1/23 save the bobcats from the hunters. i don’t want to save the girls. i will not die for anyone. ”psyche of the hunter/the hunting games” 1/27 you love this aggressive shit. zr is so wrong about you. 1/28 i would never dispute that i like to make trouble. 1/29 the dreamiest guys in the...
beautiful, sobbing high-geared fucking and then to lie silently like deer tracks in the freshly fallen snow beside the one you love. that’s all. //Richard Brautigan
if you were given the option of dying painlessly in peace at forty-five but with a lover at your side, after a full and happy life is this something that would interest you? would this interest you at all?
Los Campesinos! - In Medias Res (01 - Romance Is Boring)