The Tilting Sill

Whenever I misbehaved, my father would take me there. He would lay me down gently and then wrap the pliable stems around my body, watering the plant to the brim. I would spend a cold night more miserable than my torturer and dread the sun in equal proportion to its longing for it. At dawn the leaves would perk, leaning slightly towards the glare. By midday the stalks themselves were constricting, fighting my body to get closer to the window. At what would have normally been my supper time, I was in such agony, and the stems so tightly wound that I could not have been force fed should it have been my desire. As night fell, my father would come, tenderly unwinding the stems so that they wouldn't snap under a sudden movement. He would carry my limp frame to bed, and whisper sweetly that the deep gauges spiraling the length of my body would, for as long as they took to fade, remind me to seek the sun in all I did.

You have no faith in medicine

Ever since she took the steel wool to her face, she's been going on fewer dates. Her father always let her chase the cattle through the gates, and it seemed to close off more than the pasture. Just ask her pastor.

A New Day

Fuck. I'm glad there are words that can be expressed on a blog site, although the Globe and Mail would scream from the roof-tops not to be deceived by a site that acts like a personal diary. It is a clever idea. Have people write their frustrations and hurts (b/c, of course, the best listener is the one who never offers judgment)and then use that information to turn it against them. Once again, is nothing safe? What people don't see is the subtle meaning behind blogs. The meaning of loneliness. That people would choose a blog site to express their thoughts is strange.. yet an appealing one. Yet people, if they so choose, could write their secrets in pen and immediately following burn the paper. But people, as the inventors of this "blog" invention know, want to send off their words and so they literally can get things off their chest. I am not writing this with a smile and yet it is an anniversary of sorts.

Curse Sir Walter Raleigh

I wonder should I call you? But I know what you will do.
Maybe just another spoonful. I won't even add water (screw the directions) but I will use a spoon. Dirty and covered by impure flames. The instructions were completely oral, but not in vein. Not yet. Soon the fan will stop turning on intermittently, my eyes wont close but I will sleep. A promise for once unbroken. I wish I could fix the vase, I hear they stopped making them in China about 1200 years ago. I wish I could change a lot of things. Maybe just the price.

It never said why

It went unexplained, sinking below the surface like it did. It did give a sort of parting epitaph, a soft electrical gurgle, but then the wires were under the water and a smattering of sparks was the farewell to survivors. It never said why, it just sank. It never said why...

America's Next Top Model

Contrary to popular belief I am a huge supporter of America's Next Top Model... after all, look at all one can learn from beautiful women who try their hardest and are extremely motivitated to starve themselves and mutilate their bodies to reach their goal. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with people going to the extreme, crossing every moral boundary in some strange masochistic fashion, if it means they will succeed in a world where only perfect beauty is given credibility. Ahhh, the land of the democratic people, where everyone has a choice and free-will to do what they must to get ahead.

Thee should read thy words thus

Alas there are some in Peking who would rather not allow the discussion of the word 'teats' transforming to 'tits' be expressed over the blogger site... but they cannot prevent the foreigners from expressing their mind thus. It is interesting, perhaps a little odd, how the word 'teat' gradually changed in the word 'tit'. Where 'teat' was rarely used in a derogatory sense, it would seem that the word 'tit' is rarely used in any other fashion. One may believe that the fantasy world does not exist, but the truth of the matter is that there are some infants who are suckling on their mothers teats. And where there are cute 'yummies', there are often (most likely) cute tits. However that has yet to be debated.

Chocolate phone

I'm talking on the phone but it's chocolate and the receiver looks so inviting that I keep moving closer to it, and my mom can tell on the other end because she keeps asking if I'm ok. And I'm not really, because I think I can eat the phone, and then just as she's asking about teaching the whole plastic receiver is in my mouth, and saliva is leaking into the speaker holes and I'm not responding to my mom but I think I can taste chocolate so I keep sucking the mouthpiece until I pretend the connection is bad and hang up, utterly ashamed.

Second Post in a day!

What output! A publisher's dream! Constantly writing, constantly fighting! Everyone loves to watch controversy!

Wellm today....

Yesterday, I woke up sucking on a lemon.
Cheesecake sets faster in the fridge, you die faster from the bridge. Rocks are small and big and in between. I did some bad things in a dream. How many blogs can exists and still have an audience? How much music can be made and still be original? Well, with a finite set of possibilities...
Rodd Laing just signed in! Now his name will come up on a blog search!