elementary realization, largesse, comedown, sorrow, and truest love
things are still a bit up in the air, but that's okay. a birthday party last night, singing, somnolent, shrugging in a new world, donning paper crowns.
it's nice to be able to talk with people with views, coming in from under, crazier the better, examining the architectural continuum of the city. these are times to be cherished, and we'll miss them, even tho tempered by the exhilaration of visions of discoveries and truth and dreams through red, white, yellow beads covering the doorway. and a crystal ball.
tic toc. the big clock. the strangest hour of the city when the rush - 7:32 train - meets the going home to bed and the disdainful looks of the commuters, if they have any time for disdain, meaning the condescension of maturity - maturity! - dropping truth and earnestness in favor of
artificial buoyancy?
yeah, i've been reading my anaïs nin, keeping my wild, (un)secret notebook despite my friend's insistence on the free flow of information - look, i'm not fully ready to articulate myself as music. pure, sponsored in heaven images. cool? well. i wonder about the power of a fire, drunken-love, in a simple, enlightened way, freely creating as the individual, and in the night fall leaves being cast off like boots among the mattress.
it's nice to be able to talk with people with views, coming in from under, crazier the better, examining the architectural continuum of the city. these are times to be cherished, and we'll miss them, even tho tempered by the exhilaration of visions of discoveries and truth and dreams through red, white, yellow beads covering the doorway. and a crystal ball.
tic toc. the big clock. the strangest hour of the city when the rush - 7:32 train - meets the going home to bed and the disdainful looks of the commuters, if they have any time for disdain, meaning the condescension of maturity - maturity! - dropping truth and earnestness in favor of
artificial buoyancy?
yeah, i've been reading my anaïs nin, keeping my wild, (un)secret notebook despite my friend's insistence on the free flow of information - look, i'm not fully ready to articulate myself as music. pure, sponsored in heaven images. cool? well. i wonder about the power of a fire, drunken-love, in a simple, enlightened way, freely creating as the individual, and in the night fall leaves being cast off like boots among the mattress.
posted by liam at
1:30 AM
9 Comments:
I wonder about the power of fire, drunken love too.
Seltzer...with lime, it helps in the morning. Just kiddin'...
Wonderin', are yous goin' toos take a stab at the nanowrimo this year?
I like your writing, and,if you haven't already, thought it would be great to see what pyrotechnics you could show us. I know there are some upsets going on, or...I have a sense of it, but if you have the time and the need of distraction (if you haven't already previously attempted and dismissed)you should consider.
50,000 words in the month of November (or more...very possible, especially if you are free of work...bastard{i'm jealous}).
I'm going to do it for the first. I've wanted to for some time and put it off for one reason or the other. Let me know if you're going to. I have a few people I know jumping in...we can root each other on...maybe produce something worthwhile...or exercise our muscles while distracting ourselves from non-sense...
claire - mhm. i'm thinking it's only a matter of dynamics.
chum - seltzer with lime, huh? never heard of it.
i've never heard of the nanowrimo. writing a novel this november doesn't jive with my vision, but it sounds like good practice.
i'm in. what to do?
I cannot handle Anais Nin!
haha. o'rly? i like her.
Here is the address:
http://www.nanowrimo.org/
If you decide to sign up, let me know so I can contact your profile on the site.
It feels like it could be fun, if not just simply interesting...and a rough draft could be the outcome.
I was thinking more a matter of chemicals
uhuh, but those chemicals need adequate parallel.
...or so i possibly might think.
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