Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
recent posts
about
Category: Writing
-
Leesa frequented the Food Court every day. The mission at hand was to record the stories of the people she saw, like the middle aged lady who talked to an empty chair. Leesa also observed the teenage boy who wore an Eisernes Kreuz on his tattered camo jacket, his head bent, surrounded by multiple black…
-
No fairytale, this. Just fast friends, a gruesome end, and a few fond words shared at the wake. But I pretend, just to mess with make-believe, that love is a redemptive endeavor and not at all about insecurity / jealousy / obsession / regret: The two of you sip limoncello on Capri. I wait for…
-
And like o.k.: There's this particular writer whose work I've read and enjoyed and whom I find interesting and irritating all in one big, messy mouthful of come-one-come-all (talkin' bout chyoo JD). Yeah so, brutha man goes on about fat folks in his stories and he himself is pretty thin (cute, though – I'm shallow,…
-
A quick minute.A long moment.A pause that lasts forever. Phrases to set one's teeth on edge as the meaning of time gets lost in a multitude of interpretations. How many versions of reality play out between the beats of thought and action? To think is to do is to suffer from stage fright from cradle…
-
a happy fall is the best kind of fall since it takes a leap and a prayer to get anywhere so best to dive in and let go of the fear of actually succeeding in one's chosen career
-
Make up whatever narrativefits the occasionbe a leaderbe a followerbe controlled by: *fashion*popular opinion*the feel-goodswalk in the oppositedirection just topiss people offand then listento what they haveto say about … behaviorliesin thecrackthatseparatesdaydreamsanddone deeds.
-
it's ok if the songwriting suffersthe poetry stinkssnapshots of flowersboring/blurry/bathed in shitty lightit's all rightthe big red death moonand a pox on your lipsbrings big big changeand change is magicdisguised as one's biggest fear
-
Pepper.Mixed with ink. Throughline – Commuter spills it. Signs.Used to confuse.
-
I prefer my music rough around the edges. When it comes to books, though? Ya shit better be tight. Mind your craft, mate. Clunky prose hurts my ear nubs, don't you know? And please, please adhere to the rules you've set up for your world. I can suspend my disbelief for days; no need to…
-
blip says: don't feel like it's a slap in the face. it's nothing but a donut in the hole. if betsy needs to come back to earth pretend you're unaware the air is so thin up there. no one cares for know-it-alls. fading star power left a churning, swirling whirligig in its wake that ate…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 