January 2012
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Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?
– Albert Camus (via thesaltwaternight)
He remembered smiling more as a child. None of the photos supported this, but it was what he recalled. Smiles and sunny days and snow all winter, never slush.
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She woke most mornings and reminded herself that she wasn’t the hero of a story, that she wasn’t trapped in the opening chapters of a mid-break act. She questioned where the interlude cards might go, where an omniscient narrator might ruminate on her early-morning vicambulations through the empty, rain-slicked streets. [sunken eyes cast downward] one such card might read. [i’d...
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Things I’m Not Going To Talk About:
the drunk call I received at 2:30 this morning, two hours before I had to get up for work. Even if sleep hadn’t been an issue, that was a call I didn’t need, never needed, and for some reason didn’t hang up on.
every barb and nettle in that voice, that slurring voice, the one that sought to remind me of all my faults
how said phone...
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Lovers (cont.)
And then there was Natalie, who had never had someone walk her home before. She told me that her last name was Amberson but that she’d taken it randomly from a phonebook, and that her true surname was an eastern European glottal string of consonants. I asked her where her family was and she changed the subject so quickly I got whiplash. In the eaves of her...
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photographs from your early twenties
magnificentruin:
the line of empty glasses and bottles; the perpetual cigarette; the funny things you just said.
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I have to be all of these different people. Every day is just a shuffling of the old cracking masks. Is that why, then, that the times I’m truly alone—even if just for an evening—I see for one clear moment that I’m not okay?
Anonymous asked: How do you tell someone how much they mean to you? Where do you even begin?
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At times I believed too much in the alchemy of words, or not enough. But they were all I had. Just these airy words and the assumption that, once invoked, they would get what I wanted. Like money. Like God. I’ve won hearts and lost my own, often in the same breath.
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Anonymous asked: you're extremely pretentious
Anonymous asked: Tell me about someone you've hurt.
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Another one of those hollow nights where beer might fill these cavities but I’m just going to go workout instead.
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Anonymous asked: What do you do when people don't appreciate you?
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The broken wren lay in potted plants that hung on the windowsill. We’d watered it just that morning. The soil and loam were still damp; moisture crept into the twisted feathers that clung to that poor thing’s shattered wings. ‘I can’t die like this,’ the wren whimpered. Tremors wrecked up and down its body, trembling from beak to tail. There was a soft imprint on the...
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Christ, but those days I just want to make the incision at the base of my skull and route around in the wiring until I’ve found that switch, that little switch that just turns me off, turns me into an object. No action, just reaction. I think I’d do well as an object, tossed about to whomever needed me for the carpool lane, a quick lay, a fourth for euchre…
Anonymous asked: I'm frightened, of situations I'm facing in real life, but also of things that go bump in the night. Please, some soothing words?
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We had three days of winter. I needed three years.
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We didn’t get to have one night in Paris. Rather, it was three, all of them spent on the pull-out couch of a mutual friend in Madison. Both of us considered refusing to attend the party in which we met, and we discussed at length what might have happened if one, the other, or neither had shown up. I drew a terrible charcoal sketch of you, you bought my coffee and whiskey. On the third night,...
Anonymous asked: How does one know when to give up? I just feel like I have nothing left.
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If I could retreat, it would be back to Kalamazoo.
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It’s amazing, reading these old messages of ours, that all it took was one painful act to turn us from something white-hot and electric into strangers. It’s nuclear fission, the splitting of a particle and the intense wave of energy that results, all of it eating me alive. It’s a white witch moth in reverse, furling its wings and crawling back into its cocoon. I can scarcely...
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Anonymous asked: How does love at first sight work?
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As per my GT VI training, I’ve been amalgamating several workouts into a regimen I believe will yield satisfactory results in a short amount of time. Most are the vanity workouts of celebrities that I’ve always flirted with throwing myself headlong into, but the rest happens to be a combination of recommended strength workouts from, say, Men’s Health and the accumulated intimate...
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14 avril 1976
i hate it here. i hate st. john’s, i hate newfoundland, i hate that running away means running north, always north. it smells like the sea but not that ‘salt-and-wet-clay’ perfume. it’s brine and froth and rotting ambergris and gull shit. i can’t clean my skin of them.
this motel is like a convalescent house. drunkards and whores and screamers and...
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Anonymous asked: How do you feel the Nolan Batman series should end? How do you think it will end?