payment due. now.
Alarmedi was out of money.
he called me back to say
i couldn't have any
of his
(ask your mother)
~kissablyliterate
hopelessly hopeful-beach study- isolated 01
Newest
The Way Things GoPeter Fischli and David Weiss' 1987 film "The Way Things Go" opens with a 35 - 45 second shot of a trash bag. At first, it's an extreme close-up, which is disorienting, especially considering that the crinkling sound is not one you can place. The camera pulls back, and it's just a full black plastic bag, spinning; it's kind of simplistic and minimalist - there's no music, no other sound. It almost looks like a home movie, like something some kid would shoot in his basement. Then the bag nudges a tire, which rolls into a ladder, which knocks over a table, which knocks over an air mattress, which frees a tether ball to begin to unwind. And so oThe Way Things Go
by ~kissablyliterate
red light.green lightWhat is it you saw, that changed the color of your irises? You are perpetually wide-eyed, with pinpoint pupils and lashes you chopped off with our kitchen scissors. You look at simple things for so long, but you can’t watch anything more complex than a sprouting daisy, stage two; if it moves, you can’t follow. What are you looking at now? What did you see that made you so afraid of motion and growth and change? I touch you so, so slowly. I spend all day crossing the room, sitting next to you. I spend an hour raising my arm, ten minutes stretching my fingers out. I breathe the rhythm of sleeping even while my hidden heartred light.green light
by ~kissablyliterate
Othello.i.Othello.
He brought the game home on a Friday. I’d been sick for a week; in bed, blanketed with tissues, nose red and chaffed. I was freaking miserable. He brushed the tissues from the table surface, set it down like the grand prize, stupid smile in place.
“Othello.” It was a declaration. I felt well informed.
He opened the box, ripped all the little packages open with a childish glee – my father, six feet tall, African American. He set the board. A square. Two black, two white. He played. He owned four of the five tiles.
ii. He liked to play the game on Sundays, during t
by ~kissablyliterate
symbiosis.paracitosisi.symbiosis.paracitosis
I walked into the cafeteria swearing that today I wouldn't be such a pussy.
I walked into the cafeteria strangling my gloves and thinking that if I just asked, if he just said yes, everything would be perfect; life would be perfect. I was thinking about the trip to the Caribbean we’d had, I was thinking about that day we’d made love on the forest floor and all the leaves I'd taken home in my hair. I was thinking that he and I had had three hundred and sixty-two days as lovers before I’d ended it. I was thinking I had made a mistake. I was thinking about making it right. I sat down. I loo
by ~kissablyliterate
Random Favourites
deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: crowded, mismatched dorm - VT, US
- Interests: writing, music, magazines, people
- Favourite movie: atonement
- Favourite band or musician: the Hush Sound/Katy Perry
- Favourite genre of music: punk/alternative/rock/emo
- Favourite poet or writer: Kurt Vonnegut, Jr
- Favourite style of art: realism
- Operating System: windows xp
- MP3 player of choice: ibob
- Shell of choice: tropical, generally
- Wallpaper of choice: the touchable kind - you know, it's like got velvet patches?
- Skin of choice: caramel-complected
- Favourite game: bejeweled!
- Favourite gaming platform: nintendo 64. or super nintendo. close call.
- Favourite cartoon character: rocko!
- Personal Quote: "literate and stylish, kissable and quiet - that's what girl's dreams are made of&
- Tools of the Trade: pen/pencil/paint/charcoal/film/skin
- Email: coke.machine.glow@hotmail.com
- AIM: cokemachineglo22
- MSN: coke.machine.glow@hotmail.com
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--
Everyone - We found Waldo. But I can't tell you where - it's become a matter of national security.
--
Everyone - We found Waldo. But I can't tell you where - it's become a matter of national security.
You added a lot of my things to your favourites. I haven't written in a long time, but maybe I'll post some new things. Reading the pieces you liked has put me in a mood to try writing again.
Thanks.
--
<3_Audrey
"She listens to the Cranberries in the morning to feel wiser at night
(...)"
You're welcome, anytime. I'd be all over anything you posted, because I love you work. I think it's because you remind me so much of myself.
So thank you.
--
Everyone - We found Waldo. But I can't tell you where - it's become a matter of national security.
--
O.o Lookie --> A portfolio! [link]
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Everyone - We found Waldo. But I can't tell you where - it's become a matter of national security.
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