The forth was as expected. I indulged in overly-sweetened Italian ice and gave myself a headache. It was a beautiul thing. The orchestra ripped on with the old cliche, 1812, and the firworks were pretty fantastic.
Here I sit with a can of Cherry Coke, with another empty one crumpled at my feet.
I've been writing a lot lately and I feel like my backside is going to turn into a sack of potatoes if I sit around here typing any longer... but I can't stop with this one thing that's been returning to my mind like a bad dream. I mean, the thing isn't a bad thing, it's just too much a part of what I've been concentrating on lately... kind of painful to think about and difficult to share with people... I'm terrified of showing people. Nobody's allowed to see it. Nope, not a soul. Just me and my dumb head.
I also noticed I can't write properly on paper. I always write my best in front of a keyboard, because things flow so much more quickly that way. It's like those old-fashioned typish secretary rooms where you walk in the front door and you see fifty women in 60's clothing all pecking away at lightning speed and all you can hear is that infernal clacking noise of typwriters. Yeah.
Okay, so maybe you really have no idea what the hell I'm carrying on about and you're totally confused and think I should go take a trip to a psych ward. Whatever floats your boat.
Anyway, I write better when I'm alone and I'm in a big open space without any clutter and proper resources. I've only actually written in a place like that once, but that's when it worked best. Haha. The rest of the time it's just stuck down in the basement with a headache and a pack of ginger ale, surrounded in insomnia... and badly filtered light. It's like sitting in a marshmallow down here. I hate it.
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Hey! I can't consume the coffee in this form!
What is that she's waiting for? What does she want from us?
Find it in the bottom of a cup.
Sit in the chair. I dare you.
Emotions, concoctions, concerns, mental adventures of somebody who is a little left of center and probably nobody you'll ever meet... So why do I seem so familiar?
Emotions, concoctions, concerns, mental adventures of somebody who is a little left of center and probably nobody you'll ever meet... So why do I seem so familiar?
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- Utterly and Shatteringly
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- Insert a Penny Here
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July
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Bean Blue
Hey! I can't consume the coffee in this form!
Girl's Commune
What is that she's waiting for? What does she want from us?
Shopp'd Steam
Find it in the bottom of a cup.
iRiddle
Sit in the chair. I dare you.
Shimmy
Her personality was split down the middle.She was beginning to get the two sides confused - she'd forgotten who she was and what defined her.
One double-shot mocha and three ginger snaps later, the world opened up a gouge that vacuumed chaos.
It was time to start over.
One double-shot mocha and three ginger snaps later, the world opened up a gouge that vacuumed chaos.
It was time to start over.
The Commune [Part One]
My new imaginary commune will be for underestimated people, who are brilliant but haven't been given a chance. It will be assembled in a deserted classroom where we will all sit on top of the desks and share stories about our lives.
Hal, Matthew, David, Sam and Tony will come, and then Ethan will show up with Kyra, and even ingenius Dorian who has in fact been given a chance but with the wrong things. Even Sara will come, but it will be nice Sara, not mean bitchy Sara, the good one who likes broadway and funny movies. Emma will be invited there too. She will bring her kitten, Nina, and I will bring Molly Cyd, and together the two will frolic around on the tiled floor.
When night falls we'll all curl up on futons and bean bags because the floor would be too hard, and watch old movies, then stay up late discussing the aspects of the films together. Then we will each give goodnight comments and drift into peaceful slumber filled with lovely dreams.
At sunrise we'd all wake each other gently, and then order coffee and breakfast biscuits from Mimi's.We'd gather round discussing intelligently, and listen to music.
Matthew and I would have comic-drawing contests on the white board and then argue about artistic qualities, but it would all be okay because Ethan would get our minds off it for us. And Dorian and I will have fun with Emma and Kyra, and Dorian won't be know-it-all-inflated-ego girl, she'll just be quietly smart in a respectable way.
And we'd trash up our old uniforms with white-out and Expo marker and dance to spooky French techno and Matthew and Sam would improvise on the piano.
Hal, Matthew, David, Sam and Tony will come, and then Ethan will show up with Kyra, and even ingenius Dorian who has in fact been given a chance but with the wrong things. Even Sara will come, but it will be nice Sara, not mean bitchy Sara, the good one who likes broadway and funny movies. Emma will be invited there too. She will bring her kitten, Nina, and I will bring Molly Cyd, and together the two will frolic around on the tiled floor.
When night falls we'll all curl up on futons and bean bags because the floor would be too hard, and watch old movies, then stay up late discussing the aspects of the films together. Then we will each give goodnight comments and drift into peaceful slumber filled with lovely dreams.
At sunrise we'd all wake each other gently, and then order coffee and breakfast biscuits from Mimi's.We'd gather round discussing intelligently, and listen to music.
Matthew and I would have comic-drawing contests on the white board and then argue about artistic qualities, but it would all be okay because Ethan would get our minds off it for us. And Dorian and I will have fun with Emma and Kyra, and Dorian won't be know-it-all-inflated-ego girl, she'll just be quietly smart in a respectable way.
And we'd trash up our old uniforms with white-out and Expo marker and dance to spooky French techno and Matthew and Sam would improvise on the piano.
The Commune [Part Two]
The commune is moving to Sicily.
It'll be easy because we'll all learn to speak in easy sleazy Italian so we'll fit right in.
The same people will be there. Communes are not for families so my parents stay behind, but Andrew is an exception so he can stop by if he wants something.
Molly Cyd will have her own room to herself filled with kitty wonders and joys. I will feed her freshly caught fish and sing to her in Italian.
We will all go walking in the towns and have pure and genuine fun. When we get tired we'll take a pit stop at a cafe and pump back up on lattes.
There will be no school and nothing to worry about.
To sustain ourselves, we'll start a gelato business on the corner of a street and sell our wacky flavors to confused tourists. The girls of the commune will flirt with the good-looking carabinieri but we'll carry cans of mace with us in case anybody decides to get frisky.
It will be a lovely simple life and nobody will screw it up for us.
It'll be easy because we'll all learn to speak in easy sleazy Italian so we'll fit right in.
The same people will be there. Communes are not for families so my parents stay behind, but Andrew is an exception so he can stop by if he wants something.
Molly Cyd will have her own room to herself filled with kitty wonders and joys. I will feed her freshly caught fish and sing to her in Italian.
We will all go walking in the towns and have pure and genuine fun. When we get tired we'll take a pit stop at a cafe and pump back up on lattes.
There will be no school and nothing to worry about.
To sustain ourselves, we'll start a gelato business on the corner of a street and sell our wacky flavors to confused tourists. The girls of the commune will flirt with the good-looking carabinieri but we'll carry cans of mace with us in case anybody decides to get frisky.
It will be a lovely simple life and nobody will screw it up for us.
The Commune [Part Three]
My commune is now making its official transfer to London. No parents and no old-friend kids who will bring back old annoyances, with only a few exceptions. This commune will congregate in a stylish flat, but most of it will take part all over the city. We'll all meet each other and become great new buddies and have no regrets and learn new things every day. We'll have thrilling experiences, ride on scooters and know how to use them and not crash, avoid London traffic in stealthy ways - because we're just that cool.
Tea and coffee and completely necessary for a commune like this so even if we go broke, we'll at least have spent it all for a good reason.
We'll hear great urban music concerts and rock out all evening, then stop for some munchies, then walk around the lighted, rainy nights and talk about rediculous things that matter. We'll all be delirious and hyper and fun, dance around in puddle and make people look at us funny, laugh hysterically at really random and weird things, watch terrible British TV, all that jazz.
And there WILL be jazz. Even though the Brits aren't very famous for their jazz, I'll bring some of my American jazziness over, and we'll all party hard to things like the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, gypsy punk rock, and Anna Tsychiya.
The best part will be a room just for painting, where we will be able to express ourselves by slinging buckets and tubes of paint all around and go crazy, and act like Jackson Pollock, only 500 times better. We will make masterpieces.
Tea and coffee and completely necessary for a commune like this so even if we go broke, we'll at least have spent it all for a good reason.
We'll hear great urban music concerts and rock out all evening, then stop for some munchies, then walk around the lighted, rainy nights and talk about rediculous things that matter. We'll all be delirious and hyper and fun, dance around in puddle and make people look at us funny, laugh hysterically at really random and weird things, watch terrible British TV, all that jazz.
And there WILL be jazz. Even though the Brits aren't very famous for their jazz, I'll bring some of my American jazziness over, and we'll all party hard to things like the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, gypsy punk rock, and Anna Tsychiya.
The best part will be a room just for painting, where we will be able to express ourselves by slinging buckets and tubes of paint all around and go crazy, and act like Jackson Pollock, only 500 times better. We will make masterpieces.
My Favorite Things
- A hot cup of coffee
- A small un-heard-of cafe
- Afro-Celtic music
- An iced coffee
- Arguing about Beethoven
- Bananas
- Baristas
- Cold weather
- Fellows, not men
- Funny kids who mean it
- Getting packages in the mail
- Ginger snaps
- Ice cubes
- Imaginary communes
- Learning a song
- Pinstripes and other patterns
- Random impulses that go somewhere
- Shrimp and pepper kabobs
- Sunlight
- The way text looks on a page
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