spiderwebs accumulate in the desire-corners
��������� �����music that i have not listened to in a long time. my ear bends around it. the band rachel's playing "old road 60" and it reminds me of driving in the dark. trees arching by, grasping at you, and missing, retracting & receding into the darkness.i am 20. minor stomach ache.
"my friend dan's house is away from all these lights - it's so clear out tonight. it really is."
"wow, yeah."
"you can see every star."
an evening of long goodbyes, prolonged by the fact that the temperature is expanding like playful taffy, stretching to the limit and slowly contracting to the same as it was - empty cans of mountain dew are strategically placed around the room, like we're waiting for an intruder and maybe he'll trip the wire ... i always assume it'll be a he -
i set tasks for myself. straighten up the room. alphabetize the books. stare at the moon yearningly. listen to moody music. drench myself in honey and wait for the bees.
crescent-shaped fingernails and a loathing for the structure of staccato words - there's a word for it .. stychomythic. sign the guestbook. i miss you. i'm beginning to hate the random nature of these entries, a malformed and vague shape of something yet-to-be-described ...
there is nothing special between these words. there is nothing special between these words. there is nothing love special between these words