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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| wasting the dayso i receive this survey in the mail today: i check the return envelope to see if i needed to place a stamp on it. no postage necessary... they better pay for it if they want me to even look at their survey. anyways, i'm about to start filling it out but then notice that the freakin' letter is like hella thick with like a 100 empty boxes and tons of sentences. so the trash can captures my eye but not before i check the end of the survey to make sure my information is not on there. i end up reading a statement: "please return today". so not only do you want me to fill out tons and tons of answers but you want me to do it by the same day? then i read the sentence before: "please return even if questions are not all answered." or something like that. so i fold up the survey and place it in the envelope sealing it ready to be mailed tomorrow.
basically, i did nothing. anyways, that's sort of how my day went... a lot of questions with no answers, but i did seal the day off and send it away. | | |
| who cares? [stepped out of the room for a bit to set up the exit routine; when i came back in, the gentleman sharing on stage was like two feet above the microphone with little of what he shared reaching the audience. i quickly went up there to adjust the microphone stand but by the time i finished, he did as well.
when are they going to invent a microphone stand that can be adjusted by a remote control?? i don't know how much one might cost but i'd be willing to pay $1500 for one: totally worth it. by the way, did i mention this was at a funeral where every detail and attention calls for discreetness and subtlety?
speaking of microphone stands, i can't STAND the stands with tripod (three legged) bases (as opposed to the solid circular bases). they clutter the stage and add so much mess for such an object that takes up so little space. they're like bird's claws grabbing at my eyes.
whatever happened to beauty, to details, to the little things?
] i do. | | |
| took me like 15 minutes to figure out how to add a new weblog entryso i randomly just read someone's xanga and i decide to log on for the first time in ages... then i read my own xanga and... what is this? only reason i was writing in one was to practice writing stories... and yeah though everything's true, it's all like coded and stuff. but then i realized i'd never write again cause i'd always be thinking about how to put it down and by that time, i'd already lose interest, or it'd be like old news. so i'm just gonna write whatever... like anyone cares or reads mine... doesn't matter, as long as i know it's public, makes me write differently than if i was writing in my journal
so i figure i just be myself and write whatever i feel like. making up stories to try to be more intelligent wasn't working anyways. i'm still just an idiot. you can't cover up being stupid. like if you were smart, you could pretend to be stupid. but if you're just stupid... i guess i could just not open up my mouth... then i'd just be dumb.
shoot, that was the newspaper man just threw the paper at my door. can't believe i'm still up writing thank you cards, resignations and stuff, preparing for my last day at my job.
btw: i really didn't say shoot but i figured i'd keep it clean. i've been catching myself cussing more now because i'm like totally surrounded by it all the time. it doesn't bother me but i figure it might bother someone else... who invented cussing anyways? it's like someone decided some words were not to be used. i guess cussing really isn't an invention but more like the opposite. someone thought up the words but someone else called it cussing. the words really isn't bad till someone claimed it was, now we created this so-called cussing. the words probably would have never gained such popularity... anyways, i have no idea what i'm talking about cause i never did research on cussing or care to. i'll just shut up and be dumb now.
or i could just delete my entries and go back to continuing my story. maybe it'll work, being intelligent. | | |
| xix. Little Things"Mother, what happenned to the flowers you used to put in the bathroom?"
"What? You liked them? The water always evaporates too quickly from the thin vase."
"Yes, I miss the flowers you put in there."
***
One cannot easily distinguish the noise at first. After a while,
the continuous sound of wind traveling through a tunnel made of
darkness and stars is joined by the sound of an endless alarm.
The night train prevails in your mind though you are many rows of
houses and streets apart. The dogs continue their endless
gossip and the midnight sky continues to slowly travel down to
your body. Each star seems to shine a little brighter tonight,
giving company to each tear shed. You look at possibilities of
life and of future dotted across this soft territory of the moon yet
this owner is nowhere to be seen. The little bouncing joys were
set free to play in the clear and safe blackness and all your hurt
fades as you yourself fade into this infiinite of beauty. One
can finally find sleep and dream under this blanket of slow-moving quietness.
***
The water runs freely through hands full of sud. To the left
stand three wirely stems ending in bursts of lively pink lives all kept upright by a green well of water: These little things. | | |
| xvii. As He Wakes Up..."Hey, haven't seen you round here for a long time. What have you been up?"
"Nothing." The young boy walks around, neither going to class or to the sanctuary this Sunday morning.
"Do you still see Father?"
"I dunno..."
"You wrote a poem about your faith in Father awhile back. Where is that kid?"
"Hey, look I found their hideout!" As he changes topic playing
with the ants in the dirt. He digs a little deeper to find a
pincher big, stink bug, and an assortment of other creatures all
scrambling out of the freshly scraped dirt surface.
"You find so much when digging deep..."
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