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fenchurch

Holly Hill, SC

SG Since 2004

Followers 1238 Following 173

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Sunday Nov 07, 2004

Nov 7, 2004
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[Edit: November 8, 2:30am
Ho. Ly. Shit.
About 1 1/2 hours ago TheRedBaron came and knocked on my door and yelled "The aurora borealis is fucking visible!" and ran off. I am so glad he did.
I'd never seen it before, but it's /amazing/. It totally blew my mind.
I laid on my back for a long time just staring up at the sky, it literally took my breath away.
It felt like I was just watching the air be ripped out of my lungs and flung across the sky like the ghosts of something so mysterious and beautiful.
I feel like a total cheeseball right now but it was a fucking moving experience.
Rachel and Josh came out and we all just stood/laid around for about an hour ooh and aahing and freezing our asses off and sharing cigarettes and observations.
Oh man.
That was one of the best experiences of my life.
And I saw three shooting stars.
And in that moment, I was too happy and fulfilled and blown away to even wish.]


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Original Entry
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I fucking love The Dismemberment Plan.

Seriously.



Here are some new pillows I finished:

Apnea
love




Art courtesy of youyesyou.net. In case you can't read it, it says "Oh god baby I'm so fluffy right now". And it's funny cuz it's a pillow. And therefore fluffy. Get it? Get it? confused





And the old (best) captain from Sealab 2021:





Now I'm up to 7 throw pillows! Only made 5 of them though...I love my Star Wars pillow so much...the day after election day I carried around my George W. Bush throw pillow and let people punch him in the stupid face. It was vaguely cathartic.





Oh how I love pillows.



I was going through my writing earlier to find some samples to submit for this poetry class I want to take, and I found this poem which I didn't remember liking as much as I do now:


Icharus


My wax paper son,
Skin sheer enough to see all the life inside you,
Body like bone china
Hair like a high school girl
Matches the straw where we sleep and scratch
On cold stones like traffic cones
Up on this birthday candle
Where your hair fans out in flames while you sleep.

When I fall asleep my hands leave me
To ice your back with wax
And feather candles.
We melt birds and stones into wings shaped like your hands.

While I work, you handle the pale sunlight roughly
Splash it over your face
And stare at your arms,
The wrist like a jugular, pulse squirming below the surface
Like a child trapped under ice.
I know weve got to get out of here.

Finally their footsteps come like the ticking of a clock
We fall from this candle
Buoys on the dazzling ocean
Made all of dancing light and floating dust
The dead skin and dandruff from our bodies
Lit up like the sparks
That kept us warm long nights
Issuing from your hair.

You rise into the heady sunlight
You swallow my protestations
For an instant, suspended in the fishing line light that hooks into your boy body
You are brighter than the sun
You are the breath between my lips, the blood boiling in my veins.

Feathers unraveling,
Wax weeps down your body
As you fall like a skyscraper jumper,
Like someone aiming for the cars below all along.
VIEW 25 of 39 COMMENTS
uncognitive:
I always wondered if I was smooth enough with the ladies to make them giggle in physical pain, and I guess the answer is "probably".
Nov 8, 2004
sguser:
i got a little slip in my mailbox saying that i recieved a package, but i got home too late today to pick it up from the office. it must be the pillow, so i guess they are going to hold it hostage until tomorow morning frown . i dont know if i can wait that long, though. i might have to plan a break in and nab it, and take back my security deposit while im at it
Nov 8, 2004

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