The water tastes of dust. The glass looks clean. It's three in the morning and I'm pretty sure someone put the glass of water on the floor at around midnight. Three hours worth of dust. It tastes of childhood. Sarah, were you ever all right?
Sarah tears the postcard in half. Now the ox only has half a penis. She laughs and so do you.
A doorbell sounds in the background. Sarah shivers. (Who can it be? Who will it probably not be? And what if I don't open the door?) Sarah ponders. She just enjoys the sound of the word. Sarah pondering in the night. Sarah getting laid and this guy doing it to her just enough to make it feel right. Sarah feels poetic. Trust me, she isn't.
Her dream about the statement t-shirts is a recurring one. The statement t-shirts reveal your inner thoughts. There's a man and a woman in the dream. He wears a stupid tuxedo. She wears only a t-shirt. No, you don't get to see her vagina. The t-shirt tells you how she feels. Sarah hates her dream because she can't tell if it's about the man, the woman, the t-shirt or the different statements. Every morning she can only remember the last statement in her dream. She has compiled a list. Sarah loves her lists. Trust me, you won't.
Excerpt of statement list:
You know why. Don't even try.
This is my good morning face.
Live it up. I'm cranky.
Entertain someone else.
Spraypaint my tits. Skincolor, please.
What is a colophon?
When Sarah turned twenty six, she had her first date. His name was Christian. She's over him now. Pissing on his face. He's drinking her piss. This is what she considers to be arousing. To Christian, arousal is just another word for underpaid. Sarah, the bitch.
Here we are. There's no change in me. I feel fine and I'm doing whatever it is I'm doing. You don't really need to know. I'm writing these words, so you know. Where I am and why. Not who. Never who. Pat says hello. How's Christian, by the way. Will send you another one soon. Grow up, Sarah!
She tears Berlin in three. Sarah is greater than the wall. Sarah's not doing anything at all.null
Sarah tears the postcard in half. Now the ox only has half a penis. She laughs and so do you.
A doorbell sounds in the background. Sarah shivers. (Who can it be? Who will it probably not be? And what if I don't open the door?) Sarah ponders. She just enjoys the sound of the word. Sarah pondering in the night. Sarah getting laid and this guy doing it to her just enough to make it feel right. Sarah feels poetic. Trust me, she isn't.
Her dream about the statement t-shirts is a recurring one. The statement t-shirts reveal your inner thoughts. There's a man and a woman in the dream. He wears a stupid tuxedo. She wears only a t-shirt. No, you don't get to see her vagina. The t-shirt tells you how she feels. Sarah hates her dream because she can't tell if it's about the man, the woman, the t-shirt or the different statements. Every morning she can only remember the last statement in her dream. She has compiled a list. Sarah loves her lists. Trust me, you won't.
Excerpt of statement list:
You know why. Don't even try.
This is my good morning face.
Live it up. I'm cranky.
Entertain someone else.
Spraypaint my tits. Skincolor, please.
What is a colophon?
When Sarah turned twenty six, she had her first date. His name was Christian. She's over him now. Pissing on his face. He's drinking her piss. This is what she considers to be arousing. To Christian, arousal is just another word for underpaid. Sarah, the bitch.
Here we are. There's no change in me. I feel fine and I'm doing whatever it is I'm doing. You don't really need to know. I'm writing these words, so you know. Where I am and why. Not who. Never who. Pat says hello. How's Christian, by the way. Will send you another one soon. Grow up, Sarah!
She tears Berlin in three. Sarah is greater than the wall. Sarah's not doing anything at all.null
VIEW 26 of 26 COMMENTS
I`m glad you like that song.
You`re writing there is great. Is it a one off piece or is their more to it? Some bold topics brought up anyway.
I must tell you that I LOVE Norway. 2 years ago I went on holiday with my girl and a couple of friends, one who is from Norway. We took the ferry over from newcastle and arrived at Bergen. We then drove acroos the mountains on route 55 to join up with the road going north past Trondheim, and went all the way to the Island of Heroy at the begging of the Artic Circle. We stayed there a few days then drove all the way to Oslo and then ended up in Stavanger. I thought the place was so beautiful and the people very welcoming. Everyone we stayed with made us sleep in their bed and we all agreed we had one of the best holidays ever.
All the best, keep up the writing