Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Human Nature
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Micah didn't think of himself as a fish out of water. He didn't like the confinement of schools, is all. The more people wandered into his circle, the more Micah felt outside the action, like an observer of an experiment with which he had no connection. Crowds made for lonesome company, so the back of…
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time and being turnturn words backwards to hide crimes crimes of omission
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An upright knight has made an offer: "Ride into the hills with me." Flask in handHooves pounding sandHit the trail all romantic likeUnder the hot whitePocket full of starsAnd coins so brightThey chase down everyLast shadow. The night never stays for long. A stranger.An angel in cowboy boots and a 3-piece suit.A savior. Check the…
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My name is Reed Wallis. I live inside a faux bison hide tipi more than likely at the end of your street. I carve initials into things, like T.I.E. on the gray, axe bit-mangled post which supports your letterbox. I like ladies called George. One of them slipped me this on the back of a…
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Dear Mesmeric Cleric, Please stay out of the light, away from the spin machine, and off the sticky track. It's so much better that way for both of us. And just so you know, you are right when you write: "The work must speak for itself." I agree on all seven levels. I don't…
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The notion of truth (What is it? Where can I get some? Does it come in my size?) makes my head pound. I mean, we know truth when we see it, right? Ok, then. Give me your systems and processes and phenomena and I will show and/or tell you what is what. You can do…
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Shit blocks our sight lineschoke on a thought you forgotdare to tear my heart.Then comes the hard partconstruction ruins the viewI speak one true word.We move with the herdhome is more an attitudeshoved inside a box.
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I see what you're talking about. That is a giant mirror up there on the hill. There we are! The shiny blindness seems sort of dangerous, though. You'd have thought they'd have thought it dangerous, too. They being the park builders and the committee that selected the sculptures. I know. Can a mirror be called…
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If you can't put a thought into words, then you're dancing in the big black empty. Yeah? I brewed a pot of peppermint tea. Here, let me pour you a cup. And if I don't get out of here soon for some water–I'm talking miles of the stuff–and some right proper dim sum I am…
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Damn your fake tan and that white dress, too (the thing doesn't fit me and it looks worse on you.) Is this what our conversations have become? Insecurities are battering rams we use to knock down and bruise and negate one another. Three years of demolition and we can't come up with a plan. The…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 