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One Hundred Words

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you are beautiful [27 Apr 2014|02:03am]

[ music | Wild Belle - Keep You ]

I've been slipping out of the office in the middle of the day with a coworker. We just go for a walk, for half an hour, for forty-five minutes. We enjoy the weather, even if it's cold. And we talk. Once, we went to a bakery and got bite-sized brownies. And, twice now, I've seen "you are beautiful" stickers on our walks and pointed them out to her. When I stop her and point at the sticker, am I just pointing out a little bit of whimsy in our world, or am I telling her that I think she's beautiful?

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random interconnected fragments of memories [02 Jun 2012|01:34am]

leafing through music, trying to find a quieter mood leading to bed, stumbling into Kasey Chambers's Barricades and Brickwalls, listening to it all the way through, feeling a nagging at the edge of memory, going back to listen to it again, and listening to it again again, and feeling like there was some connection to Viv, feeling sure that now the song makes me think of Viv, and now thinking it's been a really long time since I last talked to her and thinking about how much I liked her and hoping that she's doing well, and the song ends.
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xmas morning [25 Dec 2010|04:32am]

Hand, Wheel, Dashfive years later and xmas day doesn't bother me quite so much. i had such a run of strange years leading into that xmas overnight/early morning/day. i'd had major anxiety attacks at finding every supermarket closed on xmas day. i'd been driving through what seemed like the middle of nowhere in texas in the middle of the night only to find a huge glowing white cross in front of me. now, i've seen that cross in the daylight (and the larger one here in illinois), and i've got two restaurants i like that are open and deliver on xmas day.
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five years ago [25 Dec 2010|04:28am]

things can change so much in five years. five years ago, i couldn't go to the bar across the street by myself because i couldn't get myself to do it; now it's been, hmm, four years, i think, that i can't go to the bar across the street because i'm afraid that, if i do, i won't stop drinking. ever. i don't feel that way about bars in general or even having a drink now and then, but just thinking about that particular bar makes me think about nonstop drinking. five years ago, i didn't feel so far from normal.
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[27 Feb 2010|03:37pm]


suddenly it hits you. holy methuselah: what am i doing? twelve months ago, before then and even after, this seemed like a good idea. you would complete the course because you were told that was what you needed, you would complete the course because you needed it to procure for yourself a job. most important of all, you would complete the course because it would give you something to say at lunches when asked what you planned to do with your life.


staring at the attic greek alphabet inexpertly printed on an envelope, though, you begin to entertain certain… doubts.

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[16 Jan 2010|08:08pm]

[ mood | cold ]

"Don't do that!" he exclaimed, grabbing my hand and yanking the book away from me.

"Why? You've read it a million times! I think I deserve to know what's in here." I retorted, grabbing the book again and opening it to the first page. "Oh, look. It's your first poem!"

His face turned beet red. "I don't want you to read this, or anything in here. It's personal."

My lips curled up into a smirk. "Well...don't you think that since we're going to be married soon that I should be able to know everything about you? Hmm?"

He glared.

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Wishes [04 Jan 2010|02:59pm]

[ mood | bored ]

Not a day goes by when I don't wonder what life would have been like if I hadn't been forced to move away from the place and the friends I knew and loved. Would I have dated my first real crush? Would we be married by now? Would we have a bunch of little carbon copies of us running around in a huge yard surrounding a beautiful house? I'll never know the answers to all of these questions now. Maybe God will send down a miracle and put him back into my life again somehow. I can always dream, right?

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[22 Oct 2009|04:49am]

Two or three hours ago, I had an idea for a 100-word entry. I probably should have written it then, when I actually had the idea, but rather than doing something smart like that, I spent the intervening two or three hours devising a means of counting the words so as to ensure that whatever I wrote actually was 100 words. Now, here I am at nearly 5am with no clue what it was I had intended to write and, worse, finding my writer's block extended from my contest-writing work into my journal-writing. I wonder what I'd meant to write.
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pep talk. [21 Oct 2009|11:56am]


Along the street on the way to school/ work/ destination, you think of things you’d like to have said but didn’t. It occurs to you that other people are only mysterious because they are dishonest, you are dishonest; everybody makes omissions. You have come to realise, over the years, that as you move closer to death appearances become less important. You are more likely just to tell someone now, rather than keep it to yourself; knowing that they have probably experienced it too. And yet you walk on, not brave enough to be first: penetrate the albumen; you coward, you.

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[03 Jul 2009|07:22pm]

[ mood | sigh... ]

circles have always lead my way. what i keep forgetting is left along the way as reminders after the trap of one more lap has been sprung. they say there is something more around the bend, but it's just more of the same dressed in disguises to mislead my steps to the same end. sometimes this circle doesn't seem as bad, but those sometimes have alot to do with alcohol and sleep. even change is the same. i am always stuck at the beginning... or is this another ending? they've both come to look the same. time to begin again?

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Simon - A Drabble [25 Nov 2008|08:43pm]

Lately, I find myself wondering about people I could've been friends with.

There was this kid in school. Simon. His adoptive name. He was a war orphan – a little black boy in a classroom full of white ones. Only years later I found out some people have trouble with that.

Last time I saw him was at the library. “How've you been? It's been a while.” We said we'd keep in touch, but we never did. That's life, it gets in the way.

I like to think we could've been friends. He killed himself before I could ever find out.
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Insomnia - A Drabble [25 Nov 2008|07:57pm]


The inability to sleep. I don't sleep.

I tell myself, it's nothing. I'm just not tired. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I'm just not tired.

I just don't want to sleep.

Because as soon as I'm lying there, I know I'll start thinking. About where to go. About what to do. About what I'm doing here. About life. About him.

I'm afraid to think. I don't want to think.

But it's not that. I'm just not tired. I just don't want to sleep.

I'm just tired. I just want to sleep.

But I don't sleep. I won't.
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The Journey [23 Aug 2008|11:45am]

He rode through the cold dry desert searching for the magical oasis. Tobias pulled his head covering tight around his face to protect it from the sandy wind. The dawn was about to break.

"We need to make camp," he told his four tired servants. "The dawn is near and we need to save our strength for the night."

Relieved, the servants unrolled their tents, drank from their water pouches, and began to make camp. This was the tenth day in their search for the magical oasis. The men were promised freedom and wealth should they discover it.
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an apology [11 Apr 2008|01:41am]

Perhaps because I was secretly praying for an answer, or because I knew deep in my heart that our torrid love affair could not go on forever. For I would surely be the one to end up broken, more broken then I was, if that was even possible. You sucked out every ounce of love, passion, understanding, innocents and respect I had for myself. I was black eyed then, yellow faced and desperate for a change. There he came, walking right through my door. I had to say goodbye to you shortly after that, if I didn’t…id be dead by now
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[31 Mar 2008|12:21am]

You all came in from the back, there we sat in the living room talking and laughing about who knows what. I was being of course the baby hog I am. He started to wail, that scream that only a baby can utter. I stood up, gave him a few bounces, three seconds of rocking and a nook. As quickly as he started to scream he was calm as a lamb. You all cooed at me as if I was super human

Particularly you, with that big eyed look. The kind that make me think some day I’ll be you wife.
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my caterpillar [13 Jan 2008|12:39am]

Like Alice I tumbled down the shoot head over feet. Dress over my eyes, stockings showing, Maryjanes with silver buckles shining all the way down. It’s strange here. Where all sorts of strange things happen: creatures become friends, things that were once stood grandly are minuscule in comparison to my heart, and you never know what’s just round the corner. When I am asked to sip from the small potion bottle again, I will do so fearlessly. Here, there are only more shoots to tumble down and more magic to find in this place they call the land of love
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Brave, New World [09 Jan 2008|09:27pm]

The Earth became conscious in January 2006. It was not a quiet event, but as traumatic and bloody as any human birth. Historians estimated that over three quarters of the world's population was killed during the event.
The survivors eventually realized what had happened; the planet was aware now, its consciousness humming along lines of electromagnetic force. Some people didn't believe, but that changed the first time the Earth felt the need to shout.
Afterward, people said the new global consciousness was a good thing, and not just because critics had a tendency to get crushed by mysterious rockslides.
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Unspoken, Spoken [01 Jan 2008|06:40pm]

He watched impassively as Spike finished off the demon, lit a cigarette, and strolled out of the alley as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Even though he was certain he had not been seen, Angel was careful not to let his feelings show.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the familiar presence until it was right behind him. Startled by the unexpected arrival, at a loss for words, he froze.

“Hurt him and you’re dust.”

The trust in the harshly spoken words broke his paralysis.


But he knew it was already too late, she was gone.
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Red Sky in the Morning [29 Dec 2007|03:06pm]

I dreamed of you last night. I was barefoot on the sidewalk; you walked by without stopping. But you looked once, looked twice, looked three times, searching my face to see if it was me. I pretended I didn’t care, didn’t notice. Your lip curled in a smile, sad, acknowledging. Years of memories stretched between us as we went our own ways. You disappeared in the distance; I wanted to follow, but didn’t.

I woke to a cold morning. I took your pictures down while making coffee. By the time my eggs finished boiling, all traces of you were gone.
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Blame it on the Weather [28 Dec 2007|10:51pm]


A wind from the North is always exhausting, a dry heat blasting unimpeded from the deserts and aridlands of the Red Centre, dessicating, debilitating.  A wind directly from the South is cold, and often brings rain, blowing towards us from Antarctica; it brings balance.   The winds from the West and the East (South-west & South-east) promise energy, another type of balance. 
And a thunderstorm will always vibrate through my veins as the wildest electric joy, a fierce and passionate energy like the wildest sex climbing towards orgasm, a ferocious crackling buzz I can barely contain, a rush upwards towards bliss.

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