There once was a man they called Water
Who read far too much Harry Potter
But it wasn't the same
When after Harry he named
Both his sons and his trio of daughters
Two were playing Halo, two were watching and drinking cans of beast.
"Fuck," said Clint as he got owned. Lost by one point. He gingerly threw down the controller (these things cost money). "Way to be a nerd," he said to Joe's grinning face.
Easy to follow up: "Raise your hand if you didn't practice halo and actually got laid last night" offered Clint. Brian raised his hand and Jake didn't. Fist bump with Brian.
"Tigerblood," said Brian with a smirk. Thanks, Charlie Sheen, for making the world a little crazier.
"We need to hit up Blitz tonight," said Jake....
by the time the cops can, I sneaked into an alleyway to avoid the cops but as soon as I ran around the corner of a random building. I was outnumbered by 7 police cars and 24 officers all pointing there guns at my head ready to not hesitate and shoot. But why were the cops after me? now that is a story i can't explain much about.
It was last tuesday, a young woman was knocking on my apartment door at 6 in the morning. I hungover from the night before from getting wasted and partying. I got up...
She didn't look at him.
"So that's my answer, is it?" He stared at her, hoping, praying for - well, anything. Any kind of response. A show of emotion.
She didn't look at him.
"Fine. If - if that's how it is, if that's - fine." He wanted the weight to lift from his shoulders, now that he knew the truth, he wanted something to happen, some kind of change - he wanted to feel something.
There was nothing. He was numb. He wasn't even angry, he just felt cold.
"So I'll be going then."
Her back was to him...
"Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick Tock. Tick"
"Sweet Jesus can you stop with the ticktocking? What's it all about anyway or are you actually just trying to piss me off?"
There was no response to Paul's question. He looked at Sarah who replied only with a smile that seemed to hover between serene and beatific. She had been strange today, even more strange than usual. He has seen her last night talking to some rough looking types at the cheap end of the train.....railway steerage if there was such a train. She wouldn't tell him what she had been discussing...
He set the plate before her. It steamed, smells of carmelized meat and cinnamon wafted up to her nose. "This is my lust."
He still spoke with inflection, they had not dined upon his theatricality, his sense of timing, his desire to surprise. There was an order to these things, and while he still had that order, he would continue. The assembled guests mumbled their appreciation, though Dowager Harriet was still chewing through the last bites of his shame.
When the Boddhisatva-to-be had announced this meal, the good and great had tittered that he had finally lost his mind. Spent...
Chopin and nature. Like a French-pressed cup of coffee and Swiss chocolate.
But was it nature that inspired this feast for the eyes? How did Chopin filter out the noise to create his masterpiece? Must I do the same?
I switch to Vivaldi, an upbeat piece known for it's nature qualities. The Four Seasons. Ahh...that's perfect. I sink into the hammock, the soft southern breeze cooling my hair as I rock gently back and forth. Lulled to sleep by a dead guy...
I wake up. This is all wrong. This can't be right. I'm missing something...
The song is over,...
The shoes, though pink and shiny and paired with flat white tights, were not what you wanted. "They are not ballerina shoes," you protested, knowing very well the difference from the ballet flats and the pointe shoes and just regular human shoes.
"I want some like yours," you said.
Your mother no longer wore her ballet shoes; she had once been a prima ballerina, and there were photographs of her and postcards in sepia tones that captured her in a moment of what seemed like effortless grace. Arm raised, elbow bent at such an angle that she looked like the...
Millions. Well, it seemed like millions anyway. Millions of girls in colorful ball gowns crowded into the auditorium. Millions, and I could only choose one. They all stood in silence waiting for me. I looked over my shoulder at my smiling parents sitting on their thrones. I took a deep breath and got ready to make my announcement.
"Friends, I thank you all for coming to witness the announcement as to which of you will be my bride." I scanned the sea of young women in front of me. "That woman is..." I stop short. A girl in a white...
What does it mean to go the distance? Does it mean to beat everyone else or to beat yourself? When you grow up, parents, teachers, and coaches tell you to "do your best". But we all know thats bullshit in the capitalist society we live in America. Its dog eat dog. Kill or be killed and everyone is in it for themselves. Maybe you can trust your family and a couple friends but thats it. "Go the distance" cliched. Easier said than done. What does it really mean? Beat everyone else. Be better. No one cares what you're doing unless...