open house

open house this. six foot, something, southern skateboarder showed up. again after i say… forfeit. initial resist. fuzz and disorder. he owned this gift; eradicate torment. forte pulse. piano words. i unfolded around him. environment of one. choice. we closed the door. and both… repaired broken, he spread me out to discover my voice; we filled each other’s world, then, disappeared. i stretched beside an open window i filled my lungs with...

my beautiful bubble

Humans are often entertained by the bubble I reside in. Regardless if I am rolling in the faraway land of Australia or squatting in central  New York City, between the glow of Times Square and breeze of Central Park, I make a point to not know too much about what's going on. I watched a date of mine awkwardly squirm over his escargot last week trying to explain to me what the ice bucket challenge is. If you don't know, congratulations....

stand up. harlem. believe me.

I watched a hilarious comedy show with one of my besties last night in Harlem, before we went for a sultry August stroll up the Hudson River. It's funny, because this particular mate of mine has never seen me go up - but we've read my joke books and cackled on my carpet once or twice. There's nothing better than making someone laugh. I'm putting serious consideration into an open mic tonight at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. I've written...

what my day sounded like

The listening tag in our blog collective's world of words is the most popular. I love that. I heard two new songs today that I haven't stopped playing. So I of course had to immediately bring that to listen and tell. Shout out Iggy Azalea When I came home, I started working on my book. Thousands of words everywhere. Top secret stuff. Listening to my beloved German trance station, MDR SPUTNIK Insomnia, I came across this: "Give in and get out. We...

this. bitch.

this. bitch. The way she follows you is laughable. She is a painter who is seven years younger, five pounds lighter and many lifetimes of practicality unborn - than me. I have this odd way of stating things. Like how on the day we met I told you to move in with me. She doesn’t know me. But she follows me. She reads my blog. She masturbated to one of my photos. She thinks about me much more than I ever consider her. She only crossed my mind...
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