I am in love with a robot.
That's quite simply the only way to describe it.
Because although the robot wears His clothes, and says what He would say, I never actually see Him.
I never hear His voice, I don't get to look into His eyes, it has been so long since I felt the touch of His hands...
Therefore, the only way that I can describe my relationship with him, is that I am in love with a robot. Or more accurately, my mobile phone. Because my phone offers me the comfort of His words when I can't...
That night everything changed. She would never think of the stars in the same way. Or the grass, or the flowers. In five minutes her whole perception of the world changed. She could acknowledge that the thoughts running through her head at that moment were not what she would have imagned she would be thinking in a scenario such as this. Her thoughts were clear and concise. Practical almost. She blinked. It hurt. A seering pain shot from her left eye through (what it felt like anyway) her brain. She tried turn her head to the left where she knew...
...and the walrus said to the jellyfish, "but see, I have tasks, so I can accomplish far more than you can, you spineless twit." And the jellyfish replied back, "that may be true, but I am far more viscous than you will ever be!"
And thus the walrus and the jellyfish commenced forth with their plan of under-sea domination by overthrowing king Neptune with their vast army of rabid seahorses. It was a long battle and many comrades were lost, but in the end, peace and order had been returned to the likes of the ocean.
Until one day when...
My name is Joseph Buxton and I am a terrible person.
The audience stared open-mouthed at me as the blood welled around the wound and covered my hands which were clasped over. I wouldn't normally do this, try to save a man's life, but I felt I owed him something. As he bled out and stained the cuffs of my shirt, the useless audience just stared on unmoved.
I felt his heart slow to a stop and watched the life drain from his eyes. He was still now, it was over.
I rolled up my sleeves and flagged down a...
Light. Heat. Flame. Fire. Water. Wind. Sky. Skymall. Worst catalog ever. Useless items. The infomercial of magazines. Gadgets and gizmos that nobody needs. Needful Things by Stephen King(s). Free-associating. The Association of Free Words. Become a member today. The Today Show. Show me the money. Money in the bank. Bank of America. Abbreviation: BofA. Bofa makes me laugh. I love to laugh. This always appears in personal ads. Who doesn't love to laugh? People in TV ads love to laugh. A laugh riot. Riot gear. Top Gear. Gearing up for war. War of the Worlds. World War III. III blind...
The Bronx Zoo in my mind was empty. Maybe the gazelles were milling around Yankee Stadium, waiting for Catfish Hunter. The green grass of memory, my synapses folding in the sweeping July breeze, beheld the sweet roots of my birthday candles, climbing the kitchen air like lithesome monkeys, nimble as the imagination.
In the clouds. That was the place to be when it was high summer. Three young angels danced through the morning mist, white linen gowns making no sound as they moved. "Dahlia, when will the mist clear so we can collect the first morning light?" asked one. "When it clears, Opal." Dahlia said patiently, looking at her empty jar. "Be patient, you two. The mist will clear soon, i can just see the sun." said the last, sitting on a rock. Suddenly, the morning sun burst through the mist, lighting the world. The three angels were quick. They scooped up...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
The 'experts' can talk all they like about Sleep Paralysis but I'm not convinced. I want to believe them, I really do, but that 'somebody' has always been there.
It's my first memory and will probably be my last. A shadow, a presence looming over my life. Never speaking but all seeing and so very dark.
Spritualists want to convince me it's my 'guardian angel' but I'm not convinced. I don't feel very guarded by it. Quite the opposite.
I should have never acknowledged it, never mentioned it, never tried to...
I think it's number nine. Eight maybe. All I know is my face is slightly tingled.
"Another," she asks as she walks past me.
I give an affirming nod. She has to know I am nearing my limit, but I have learned to play this off well.
"You had the Green Line, right?"
I nod again.
The Cubs are on, and they are losing. Nothing new there.
A couple sits in the corner talking about important couple things.
Two friends sit the right of me, discussing how much their lives and the Cubs suck.
The glass ends up in front...
It was practically viral by now. the video a friend of mine had posted on youtube, of our mass dance party for cancer. Everyone was doing it. There was a practically a million other videos like ours, everyone doing our dance, to various remixes of that song. We had worn masks, for some bizarre reason, and evryone was doing that too. i had seen everything from drama masks to those little ones you see doctors wearing. I watched yet another video of people throwing their arms in the air and twisting their hips. I was kinda proud of us. coordinating...