Monday, April 19, 2010


I just came across some old written words and was pleased to find them to be pretty decent. Sad though, made sadder still by their incompletion. If only I had the balls to really just write something until it's complete instead of this damned flirting with finality crap. 

Flirting. A talent I never hope to lose, but it would be really nice to rope it in somehow. I have a knack for it... could put it to some kind of good use... I guess I am for now. Flirting with possibility, with disaster, with a move into my own place, with not listening to this song again on repeat.... I do like having things swimming, and thankfully I am not nearly as sad as the girl in this story I wrote back then (whenever that was). I'll just pop one section from it so you can an idea of what I'm talking about. I'm hoping to pull it back into something, I kind of like how weird it sounds.

Snow drops like hail on a sunroof that I can’t stop staring up and out of. I am scared a little that the glass will break, but not enough to close the cover and stop looking up.I want to pop the roof open and let the snow fall into my mouth but the driver won’t let me. The driver is someone I know, but I don’t care who because these flakes are so amazing. I am enamored with them, more than I have ever been with anything in my life. Something green flashes through the white noise and I get dizzy. I close my eyes and am overwhelmed by the sound of the giant flakes hitting the glass. I look out the window to gain my sense of self and see that I am not in a car, but on a bicycle built for two. I am peddling and laughing, wearing a bikini and Chuck Taylors in the snow, which is still the size of hail, but not nearly as hostile. 
I stick out my tongue to catch a flake; it tastes like pistachio ice cream, my favorite! I am the one steering the bike so I try to turn around and see whose riding with me and see that I am alone. I stick my tongue out again and this time there are pistachios on it. No ice cream needed. Pulling the bicycle over, I decide to walk. There is no need to drive a bicycle built for two all alone. Just as I park the bike in the woods and 
start to walk away, the snow stops falling. Well, and I wake up.  

1 comment:

kmackay said...

keep flirting. and keep writing.