I am plastic.
Three years ago, I went to Hawaii (a big rock in the middle of the ocean) with a rock on my finger. I came back with sunburn, razor burn, and a too-tight gold band that cut my finger right below the big rock.
Two years ago, my birthday present was breast implants. I guess they look okay. After I healed, we had sex and he said, "Huh, they don't feel so great. Look nice, though."
I'm here, I guess. I don't know if I ever was. I've been wearing lipstick since eleven and stuffing my bra since...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
Twice, in Singapore, she sat by a fountain.
Three times, in Kuala Lumpur, at three different locations, she waited by Banyan trees.
She was waiting. Always waiting.
She was waiting for me.
She didn't know that I knew that she was waiting for me, but enough money, in the right pockets, can keep me out of trouble. *Has* kept me out of trouble for the past four years. Kept me out of her hands. Out of the hands of the people who wanted to find me....
I don't know what I'm doing here. I never really have to be honest. Going through that door was the worst decision of my life and now look where I am. Stuck here, in a world I know nothing about, one that looks so familiar and yet so alien. A place where I am surround by people yet so alone.
I'd rather I was actually alone, it's much better than being ignored. Much better than the situation I'm in now.
It boggles the mind what the people are like here. They never stop, they're always moving. None of this makes...
”Beware the Bwgan Fawr.” the old Vicar sighed. “Every chapel has to have its ‘Ysbryd capel’…”
“Its chapel ghost?” the younger clergyman replied. His pronunciation was still more ‘gog’, more Northern, than the man he was replacing felt comfortable with. Too… foreign. If such a phrase could be used for a fellow Welshman.
A shame, his body was found the morning after his first Midnight Mass. Just outside the chapel door, lying as if it had carried a great weight across the threshold, and then collapsed with the release of his burden. A heart attack, they said. Strange in someone...
Beer - Bier - l'alcool - it's all you really wanted
You are just so damn cold, inside and out. First day of November and you wake up to snowfall. All day you stayed inside trying to forget things: forget to find a job, forget to write up resumés, forget to eat, forget to follow through. But now you're outside and it's dark; it's been dark since 17:00. You're outside and it's cold; temperatures dropping to 2°c today. Guten Morgen the world said and Guten Nacht you told yourself. The damn cold just won't go away, the umbrella doesn't hide...
It approached.
It was too bright. Light wasn't meant to be frightening, but this one was - it was too bright, and there was too much there, it meant too much.
Easier to turn away. But that wasn't an option anymore; there were other powers at work here. There was no escape route.
Everything was happening too quickly. No time to work out what to do, no time to even begin to create other options.
Just the light. The light and the fear. And the horror that was approaching.
In a rush, in a horrific scream, bathed in terrifying light,...
Gradually. That's what the doctor tells me. Gradually I will get worse. My liver will gradually fail; my arthritis will gradually turn my hands crooked.
So gradually, you mean, I'm dying? Isn't that bullshit? Could there be something worse for me to hear? So gradually since the age of 13, I've been killing myself. That first drink, to the last, I "gradually" ruined my insides? All because my parents failed to tell me what drinking really does to you? So it's my fault that during summers, parties, college, and beyond, that I "enjoyed" my life while ruining it at the...
Kent was stabbing someone. I think it was Mary. Maybe it was Bill. I don't know. The important thing is that it was a person and he or she was in the process of being killed by Kent, who everyone called "The Guy Who Likes to Stab People." Once he tried to stab Tony buy Tony was wearing chainmail so it didn't work. Later they went for figs.
Kent finished stabbing the person, who then died. The person was red, slick with blood. I didn't know if it was a man or woman. When he was done, Kent wiped his...
The moon would never be the same again.
NASA, in a fit of proctological madness popped a cap in it's ass. It was no longer the benign pie in the sky of sappy Italian love songs.
The man, the one in the moon, was pissed.
The changes were slow to come. Not many people noticed at first that the tides were stronger and higher. The Bay of Fundy was virtually empty during low tide, and Nova Scotia completely submerged during high before anybody thought to ask what was up.
Lunacy was on the rise.
Werewolf sightings peaked.
Lunar eclipses now...
Heating nothing as I refrigerate.
Eating nothing as my body preserves.
We eat and are ultimately eaten.
Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.
We are products for sightless feeders.
Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.
Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.
Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.
This oven of nothing is heated anyway.
I stare at the flames to assert my intention.
I am alive for now. For now.