Monster mash

July 25, 2011 § Leave a comment

I was seeing everyone in double. Their regular self, and then their skin with a hazy green tint over it, making them look like monsters. Green with envy? I doubt it. I was running around grabbing things from my room and shoving them into a carry-on sized suitcase when my dad came out carrying a bookshelf.  Where the hell am I going to put that?   We invited the whole family to the going away party, even gave them two weeks notice. Only three people showed up. Uncle Andy was there, but he mostly stood outside shaking his head at the whole thing. Joy and Jeremy made it, too, and surprisingly, Joy didn’t talk about herself the whole time.   I was in a rush. The party started thirty minutes before my flight was scheduled to depart. Aren’t I supposed to be boarding thirty minutes before my flight is scheduled to depart? Who’s idea was that?  Anyway, I don’t remember if I made it or not. But I do remember I didn’t have time to say goodbye.



July 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

Would be like weeping
If weeping
Felt like leaping
Under the moonlight.
Stars sweeping across the big black sky.

I think I saw your pixie

July 18, 2011 § Leave a comment

I was riding the train tonight and a few stops into my ride, a girl stepped on. She had short, bright blonde hair with deep purple stripes in a few choice places around her pale, round face. She walked across the aisle with a rather large amount of determination for such a short trip. When she got in front of the opposite door, she stood straight in front of the window and fixed her hair with a curious mixture of confidence and insecurity until she was finally satisfied with the image staring back at her.

She was alone and gazed forward through blue eyes that glistened with that moist sparkle eyes get just before they shed a tear. But her eyes weren’t sad, they were simply aware — wide open to the fact that the world is sometimes too much to bear. She carried a large purse, probably full of bar receipts dating months back, RedEyes with half-completed crossword puzzles and loose change she’s holding onto for the next time she needs to do laundry.

While she stood against the section divider, she picked away at the already-chipped black nail polish she likely kept forgetting to take off. The residue fell on her gray Converse sneakers that were tilted slightly inward, creating the foundation of an invisible wall extending upward. She rested behind that wall, supported by the train, comfortably removed from the world around her.

As the train approached her stop, she slowly lifted her small frame from the divider and stepped out of the car, into the night and off on her way.

Perhaps she was worried her friends would be annoyed that she was late for the drinks she’d promised to get with them weeks ago. Maybe she was off to see a local band play at a small underground rock club she’d never been to before. Or maybe she was going home to a glass of wine and the book she’d been meaning to finish since August.

I don’t know, but you should look for her the next time you’re on the train. She resembled a pixie and very well could have been a little on the crazy side.

This is Central Park

July 17, 2011 § Leave a comment


“I used to be idealistic,

July 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

but then I realized I like nice things.”

– words spoken by a girl with more privilege than passion.

“I would like it to happen,

July 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

but not by appointment.”

– words spoken by a new friend, who seems to have a lot to say, but rarely gets the chance.

When waiting

July 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

It’s kind of like being in Chicago, this 1 train. It’s not on the lowest track, so we’re just one level under ground. I’m standing near the back door — the one people use to walk between trains.   Looking across the connection, it looks the same as it did in Chicago — another car following closely behind, full of strangers who kind of look like the people on my train. Strangers ill never see again, probably.  

I’m off the 1 now, though. Waiting for the D train. I’m on the lower track now. It’s much hotter down here. The air is heavy, but no one seems weighed down by it, except me, probably.  

Last night, after waiting on a similar platform for about 25 minutes, I certainly started to feel the weight of the air pulling me closer to the ground with every breath. My face would flush and a strange coldness would flash through my cheeks and forehead. I would blink and my body temperature would return to hot, as quickly as it flashed.

Where Am I?

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