factory setting

kaiandtristan

school + postmodernism = 5

i know what you're thinking

They sat in the dry grass with limbs tangled. Pollen was being carried in the air and she would sneeze occasionally, trying to hide as her face crinkled, giving a flash of the future, with her delicate hand. After teasing her she told him to get lost, and he did. He got up and went to the bus stop, and she did not go after him. She got up and rode her bike home. She could not explain her feelings rationally and as much as she hated him, daydreams of them together always snuck in. she rode her bike absentmindedly and almost got hit by a car. This did not bother her. At home she took some Claritin and rubbed her eyes. He called her later that night inviting her out, but she denied for whatever reason she gave herself. Instead she went to bed and pretended nothing was there. A couple days later at school he came up to her and her friend, but instead of acknowledging him she turned to her friend and became extremely interested in nail polish. He was neither ugly nor handsome, she felt she could do better. Her friend pointed out there was nothing wrong with him and nothing else had more potential. She took this into account and decided she was not ready for a "relationship" full of sweaty palms and awkward glances. this decision stopped nothing. it did not solve the glances he would give her, and the feeling she got from them.

i feel very cut off from humanity out here in the boonies of south boulder.

a classroom setting

he sat there, in the back left of the class popping his knuckles and chewing on a black pen cap. he was tired and it showed. in his eyes, in his face. he looked awkward sitting in the desk. his large figure was much to big for the molded blue plastic chair attached to fake wood. he wasnt listening to the teacher. no one was. a class of 40 and almost everyone had their head on the textbook in front of them. thats the only reason i noticed him, i was able to see him for the first time. he was staring at something just beyond the clock with no expression. he wasnt even blinking.

SOPHIE HATES

sophie hates school.

how amusing

dorkdorkdork

Plato's Symposium:

"People were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost."

Your standards will kill yourself.

i dont know what to do.

She cant hardly wait

I was in the park at a quarter to one. I watched them through the chain link fence with my fingers wrapped around it.
they were dancing together under the spotlight on the blacktop. It was silent, except for the cars passing by.
I felt the cold go down my spine. I hadn't seen him all summer, and here I was, no better then a peeping tom. He always thought I talked to much.
I was in the park because I had to leave the party. I watched them kiss on the futon from the doorway and I couldn't take it. I had excused myself politely saying I was going to the bathroom. The front door was open for the smokers, so I think people just thought I was going to find a better conversation. But here I was in the park. I had run all the way down there, in the middle of the street because asphalt is supposed to be better for your knees then pavement. I stopped and sat in a front lawn to catch my breath on the way. The park wasn't any help, I couldn't forget things I wanted to and seeing the shadows of their dancing just reminded me of more things I didn't want to remember.
so I went to the supermarket.
it was full of boxes for restalking and all the workers were stoned. There were only four other shoppers and all looked sufficiently intoxicated. Once I was there I didn't know what to do. I decided to ask where the fritos where. I bought them and left. I ate the fritos outside on one of the concrete picnic tables trying to figure out my next move, and my future. At first I planed on going to dennys and staying there until it was late enough in the morning to go home. But I had spent my coffee money on the salty fritos, I cursed myself for not getting a drink. I decided I would go to college but only after a year off. Maybe I could sneak in through my window, but I had to much energy to go to sleep. I would live in a big city.
I considered if he wasn't real while I crumpled the bag and looked down at my sneakers.
I spotted the meth couple I saw inside leaving and decided to follow them. They took the shopping cart all the way to their apartment building two blocks away. I sat in the stairwell and listened to them bicker over the radio. 'California dreamin'' came on and all I heard was the man say "shh...listen", and the song filled the air. I think there names were reggie and Fred. Fred had a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes and would be attractive if he didn't have a mullet that he pulled back into a pony tail. reggie had big red hair.
after that I walked home.
on my way I kicked a dumpster and saw the girl who flashed everyone at the football game. I went home and peeled dried glue off my hand and thought about how he had ripped off the cover of my favorite book.

my least favorite month is august

i feel like we used to have fun.
i am tired of being bored. arent you?



sometimes i forget to hate myself.

tapioca

i love tapioca pudding, but i rarely get to eat it. i always get long periods of cravings for it, ever since i was a child. i leap for joy each time the rare possibility of available tapioca pudding. well, i caved in. i bought tapioca mix and decided to make it myself. i burnt it. all pudding is difficult to make. but i was still determind. i ate spoonfulls of the burnt pudding. it was disgusting. i just wanted that sweet pudding so badly. later as i was developing calouses from scouring the pot i realized what i had been reduced to.
well today i tried again and i won. the tapioca is cooling in the fridge as i write this. you have no idea of the self satisfation that i am feeling right now.

why i love alicia (even when shes crippled)

this is a post taken from january; enjoy, i certainly did.
Obsession.
obsession: A recurring, unwanted idea that cannot be eliminated. Obsessive ideas are often unreasonable and disturbing. Preoccupation with an obsessive idea can interfere with normal daily activities.


my obsessions (or rather things that only point to me being OCD):

-sophie's house
-sophie's mom
-coffee
-cigarettes
-sophie's perfume
-grilled cheese
-cheese in general
-sandwiches in general
-myspace
-labeling things with my label maker
-washing my hands
-shredding paper
-drunken sluts
-following a perfect routine every morning
-making sure public bathroom doors are locked before i pee
-eating pistachios
-quarters
-daily seinfeld references

so much more... and so little motivation.



HAHA!
love
sophie

The MAN Trip

Frank

frank. frank runs a hot dog stand. "franks franks". it is on the corner of 35th and blaine. somehow, this hot dog stand makes his taxes complicated. frank has a heavy accent. lets say its chicago. ok, frank is from chicago illinois. his hot dog stand is a living. it is franks full time job. frank is not particularly friendly, but all hes selling is hot dogs and the occaisional pepsi. he would sell coke, but pepsi cuts hot dog venders a deal. frank is 52. he has been running the hot dog stand about 15 years, and has gained 50 pounds. personally, he likes mustard on his hot dogs, thats it. he doesnt have much of a fondness for relish. frank is balding. his wife left him years ago, but he still has his dog.
frank is unhappy.

it was in our dead suburbia
during the tv land dryspell
beneath the yellowing
of the streetlamps
and jumping out of headlights
that we discovered
the surreal
and the people of dennys
we felt the gravel as we slipped on our shoes
and climed out the window
feeling insomnia like red bull
at times we considered early
and learned how to sleep on a futon.

"Pot bellies make a man look either oafish, or like a gorilla. But on a woman, a pot belly is very sexy. The rest of you is normal. Normal face, normal legs, normal hips, normal ass, but with a big, perfectly round pot belly. If I had one, I'd wear a tee-shirt two sizes too small to accentuate it. I don't give a damn what men find attractive. It's unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same."

dead fiction

i swear this wont be a photo blog.

faye

if you write a free form poem about hobos, then you are OBVIOUSLY superior

another crack?

we had a very short in-personal conversation on the phone. he said hello, i said hello,he told me what i needed to do for tomorrow, gave me his excuse, and hung up before i could say byebye.
the next mourning i waited at the bus stop at eight. it was cloudy and cool, the soft breezes blew my lace pseudo wedding dress around my legs.
she was still asleep, wrapped up softly in the sheets, her long hair everywhere and her face burried in the pillow. i thought about how i am not a morning person.
i watched the cool breeze blow the burger king wrappers past my feet. the bus came. i watched the town roll by and soon i was in the city.
i walked from the station to the bank. the building was a skyscraper and in side they had a pleasant little fountain. starbucks and suits were everywhere, and here i was in my lacy dress with a thermas full of tea. i took the elevator to his floor, just like he had curtly told me on the phone. in the elevator two bitchy women were looking at me and saying how they'd hire anyone. i got to his floor "accounting" and luckily he was waiting in the reception room so i didnt have to deal with the receptionist.
"lets go to the parking garage."
he took me to the bottom level, the basement of the building. he started to talk to me.
i didnt understand what he was saying.
two teenagers were sitting in their car at the other end of the empty parking lot.
he was much older than i was. in his thirties.
he told me to go down town, which confused me because i thought i was downtown but apparently i was only in the buisness district. there he would meet me for lunch at a fastfood chinese joint. he said more, but i didnt understand.
i was trying to not let the experience change me, i tried to stay the same.
i sat in the food court infront of "KUNG POW" for an hour before he came.
he bought me awful food that smelled like month old sticky candy. i didnt eat it.
at lunch he tried to make small talk. i didnt participate, i hate that shit. i just watched the people walking outside. the teenage boys with scateboards yelling faggot. the buissness men like the one i was with. the women who were getting paid less, and most of all the minorities and homeless. urban decay at its finest.
soon enough he got the message and moved on to the real reason i dragged my ass down to the city. but just as he was about to show me the files, some collegues from his office came in and he had to put them away. after exchanging curtisies, he lowly whispered
"lets go to the park."
we got up quietly and threw away our uneatin meals, and put our plastic trays on top of the bage trashcan with "THANK YOU" engraved on it.
soon we got to the park with the man made lake, the jogging path, the dog walkers, and most importantly the wire metal trashcans so you wouldnt be tempted to let your dog shit laying around.
we sat on the park bench watching a six year old girl sucking on her coconut popsicle. she was wearing the too-cute black pattent leather shoes that have one strap, and a little flower-patterned sundress. she stood for a while and then slowly but clumsily sat down. we could see her cotton underware. it was a hot day in june and the posicle was melting faster then she could eat it. we watched as lines of liquid ran from her hand down her arm, and watched the sticky mess around her mouth grow and shimmer in the sun. i turned my head and watched him watch her. i looked back at the six year old. now that i think about it, our dresses were very similar. after about five minutes all that was left of the posicle was the stick. she got up, wiped her mouth and walked over to the trash can to through away the thin wood slice. he got up, and i followed. he walked briskly through the park, and i had to jog to keep up. clowds were begining to develop, but i couldnt tell if it would actually rain or not. once we were out of the park, i followed him through three intersections to an old bank building.
"wait here." he said. i did. ten minutes later he came back wearing a black trenchcoat and carrying a newspaper.
"this way." i followed him through some back alleys and other places. places i didnt feel comfertable wearing my dress. i found myslef craving coconut. i thought about how the girl must have slices of cocoanut caught in between her teeth. and i thought about how he had looked at that girl.
"ive rented a room for you." he said.
"what? i only live 25 miles away i dont need a room."
"i want to know where you are at all times. anyway, do you really want to do the 2 hour commute everyday?".
"fine."
he led me to his car that was about two blocks away. his parking meter had expired.

i had split ends

savior

any psuedo intellectual must use the term "ironic" at least six times a day.

joseph and the ____ dreamcoat

dont do ACID

lets go political

i only do this because i cant think of anything to write.