Saturday, October 27, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
New Project
I found some inspiration today. While looking through a thrifted JFK book of mine, I noticed a small, folded piece of paper stuck between the pages. Upon unfolding it, I discovered an anonymous fictional letter written by JFK post partem.
This got me thinking. I want to lend voices to fictional characters beyond their graves, or texts. What if Gatsby wrote a letter to Daisy after the car crash? What if George wrote Lenny a letter explaining his choice to put a bullet into his skull?
I'm going to start writing a series of such letters. I will share a few of them via Pretty Girls; however, maybe this could finally be something I stick to in terms of getting published. We shall see where this goes. The sparks are going.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Let the Wrong One In.
I said, "I'm tired of this city and the people inside it" as I fell to the ground and he was trying to hide it. Shaking and crying and embarrassing myself, wishing there was something that could help me in these shelves.
Moved to the big city, the 416. Everyone was pretty, and the boys were hip. Found a firecracker and lit him in my hand, exploded in my face but I don't give a damn. Locked him up and swallowed the key, he's happier now, forgeting about me.
Found some faces, from different places. Sent them less than three's and slept in their spaces.
GO tickets and texts, hoping for something better next. Man, I haven't meant those three words yet. But they don't seem to mind all that much.
Let the wrong one in, then board up the doors. I don't drink much but wonder if I should pour more. Buying wine to pass the time, letting the wrong ones get inside. Yeah, you're inside.
Expensive taste, contacts to erase. I swear there is something in the water here.
I died a little bit, and left you a little hint. Yeah, you know what I'm looking for. More, more, more, more.
Moved to the big city, the 416. Everyone was pretty, and the boys were hip. Found a firecracker and lit him in my hand, exploded in my face but I don't give a damn. Locked him up and swallowed the key, he's happier now, forgeting about me.
Found some faces, from different places. Sent them less than three's and slept in their spaces.
GO tickets and texts, hoping for something better next. Man, I haven't meant those three words yet. But they don't seem to mind all that much.
Let the wrong one in, then board up the doors. I don't drink much but wonder if I should pour more. Buying wine to pass the time, letting the wrong ones get inside. Yeah, you're inside.
Expensive taste, contacts to erase. I swear there is something in the water here.
I died a little bit, and left you a little hint. Yeah, you know what I'm looking for. More, more, more, more.
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