sitting in the backyard, drinking warm water that used to have icecubes in it. the grass is sharp under my feet, exhaling invisible puffs of dust at every step. the sun heats my hair, until touching it feels like idly stroking the sand near a beach towel on a hot day. bored, i start pushing an easy chair from the house towards the backyard. the chair is yellow corduroy, and overstuffed. as i set the chair in the middle of the yard and sit down, i realize that the fabric will quickly become suffocatingly hot. this is, somehow, comforting instead of worrisome. the chair is entirely out of place in the yard. that simple fact makes me very happy.
the patterns of light in the bottles on my windowsill appear to be spinning, slowly. i'm not sure why.
the fan in the corner looks at the floor, resembling a sweaty street child with its dusty blades and dejected expression. if i turn it on, it will shake its head and laugh, a child sprayed with a hose in the summertime, cool and delighted.
my plant, the one that used to reside in my thesis office, is growing. it had only five or six leaves, now it probably has fifteen or more. it's getting tall enough that it's not too big for its pot anymore.
i think i need to go to the mall to look for a job. i don't know if i will be able to work in an office. or i need to go to grad school, get a teaching fellowship. does anyone know of good grad schools for english? i'm looking at brown and emory right now..
an ex-boy/bestfriend emailed me today. he had said that he never wanted to speak to me again. that i was pathetic - because i experimented with chemical recreation. among other things, probably. but he abandoned me when i needed him. but i loved him dearly, and have missed him since. he wrote to congratulate me for graduating from college, but i can't believe that that's the only reason he wrote. i am so curious of what his motives could be. maybe he misses me?
off to go do some reading.. great plans aside, i've been lazy since i quit my last job. being lazy is nice.
the patterns of light in the bottles on my windowsill appear to be spinning, slowly. i'm not sure why.
the fan in the corner looks at the floor, resembling a sweaty street child with its dusty blades and dejected expression. if i turn it on, it will shake its head and laugh, a child sprayed with a hose in the summertime, cool and delighted.
my plant, the one that used to reside in my thesis office, is growing. it had only five or six leaves, now it probably has fifteen or more. it's getting tall enough that it's not too big for its pot anymore.
i think i need to go to the mall to look for a job. i don't know if i will be able to work in an office. or i need to go to grad school, get a teaching fellowship. does anyone know of good grad schools for english? i'm looking at brown and emory right now..
an ex-boy/bestfriend emailed me today. he had said that he never wanted to speak to me again. that i was pathetic - because i experimented with chemical recreation. among other things, probably. but he abandoned me when i needed him. but i loved him dearly, and have missed him since. he wrote to congratulate me for graduating from college, but i can't believe that that's the only reason he wrote. i am so curious of what his motives could be. maybe he misses me?
off to go do some reading.. great plans aside, i've been lazy since i quit my last job. being lazy is nice.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
soniktoothe:
I would recommend you look into photography, just from your descriptions the way you word things i feel like you could see things through a lense, you have the eye of the artist of this i have no doubt and you can certainly bring that to the fore in your writing, but i would bet that isnt the only place and the great thing about photography is it is so immediate especially if you use a digital camera or a polaroid(i lovee mine) photographs can instantly capture these vignettes that you capture in your writing also. just food for thought....
papelaria:
wow, what writing! i was ready for a description of your afternoon from the chair's perspective (blush)--no really, like in "Our Mutual Friend". have you read any Dickens? a dinner party described by a mirror and a table....