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Wednesday, October 8
i just have to close my eyes and be stupid and do it, and send it, and push it, and get it done.
and the magic is still there.
Giorgie 8:46:00 PM
Monday, October 6
coldplay is the bestest.
this person in some community on lj did this thing where she wrote a story/poem around ani difranco's song "the diner", and i thought it was a super rad idea, so i'm thinking of stealing the idea and using coldplay's "sparks", because yeah. that's a damn good song.
and so far she has.
the rain was falling so hard that night that even the most deaf person could hear it fall upon their lips. and of all nights, she was standing in front of his front door, watching the blue light from the tv flicker, and his shadow pace in front of the window, but never looking out. it dripped from her eyelashes (like tears) but rain, (much sweeter) clung to her body like the clothing it had soaked through. and she smiled, his silhouette passed in and out of her peripheral vision or rather, he paced in front of the window. but stopped.
and turned.
she continued down the sidewalk, singing sweetly to herself. "i... i saw sparks."
turning only because he had the haunting feeling that she had been there. but only saw the rain falling in an uneven pattern, a murmur of a heartbeat, against his window. he retreated to his easy chair. "it's you that i hold on to. that's what i do." and sighed.
she walked. "i know i was wrong, i won't let you down, no, yeah i will, yeah i will, yes i will, i will."
which leads us to the current state of dilemmaness. i don't know that i like how the lyrics used aren't in chronological order, because i really want to use them in order. i don't think that made any sense.
and sigh. i'm in such a crappy spot tonite, i've only been up for eleven hours, coz i went to bed at five this morning, and pishoo. i'm screwing up my internal clock without wanting/meaning to.
maybe i should scrap that bit and start over. coz i started that thing at like midnight and i don't think it makes much sense, because yesterday really screwed with my head. i just so desperately need to get writing again because a lot of my portfolio is two years old. and that's no good. and i lost a lot of poems in progress when the old imac killed itself. sniffle. poor old imac. with it's huge hard drive. sigh. anyway. yeah.
Maria 12:05:00 AM
Sunday, October 5
september, night, and humid:
it smells like pizza, hasta, mums
with trees boardering the sky
and buildings set to fall asleep
set to slowly slice the sky, cobalt
blue marble cake, dissapearing
yet not horizontal, no horizens
nothing soft to sink in, only
geometry and blurry lost light.
kate the same thing happened to me, i forgot i had written this...
Giorgie 9:32:00 PM
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