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Can you hear how good you all are? A list of your classifiers wouldn’t suffice, I’ve seen enough to love you twice, your smile is up, and up is down won’t you come be a rodeo clown with me, cowboy, ride the sound. Sounders spinning algorithm ride the favorite but couldn’t fill ‘3 Eh-hem. I…
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When you know your English teacher is wat hi g you one does begin to mind for c’s and n’s. I couldn’t tell you what that u-turn of a phenomenon is termed when you take your a and d away from the conjunction. Palm trees. You know. So you end up your game and go…
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I’ve been putting this off. I’ve been putting this off because it hurts. I’m putting this off even right at this moment because it makes my chest tight. It’s circling my shoulder now, threatening my neck. At some point it’ll give up on the extremities and burrow instead into the deep flesh I hide in…
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Like at least one other writer, I have bad skin. It does the unforgivable trick of itself all over my body. My body made of bones. It goes around my body being skin and starting small fires. I can feel it on the back of my neck, over the vertebrae, just sitting there, starting fires…
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It collects in the high corners first never stopping so slow it’s like dust on your fingers but you’ve stopped moving you’re not dead you’ve just stopped moving and anything like it is like that it starts in the ceiling corners and then it melts the walls brown and drippy like that time you had…
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On the path, you take the tools. Tools take you? No. Your journey. Oh but is it yours? What is yours? Are you on the ownership trip or the skipaway ship across the bay? The difference is subtle, the difference is suffering. Which do you want? Doesn’t matter. Want and need are different beasts, far…
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Alright, here’s the deal: you have to move your hips. I’m not normally one to give advice, especially not without being asked, especially not on the Internet, and especially not on a blog that’s normally so… You have to move your hips. You have to move your hips. You have to move your hips. Does…
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“What do you see up there, brother?” “No more than you.” Perception is an illusion, and we are the aggregate. Is there more to say?
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I’ve passed countless hours on the road, so many that trying to corner my thoughts on this subject is slippery business. I’ve seen rainbows, moonbeams, blood smeared on asphalt, unrecognizable metal and carrion, towns without name, cities without faces, entropy in wheat fields, the erection of man’s progress, his folly. I’ve run for my life,…
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Lorraine The Wrighter 