[ sometimes I can hold my tongue
sometimes not ]
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[ sometimes I can hold my tongue sometimes not ]
I read: |
college student. (english literature, dance, education)
quite fond of: friends and family (and where the lines blur) poetry the bay area dance (for life and always) eating constantly party time (excellent!) retail therapy olympic level procrastination wandering in libraries sleeping at odd hours emotional masochism Youtube Last.fm
Poetry Excerpts from "Sound Off" chapbook. Poetry Workshop I, Mills College, August-November 2009. Copyright 2009, all rights reserved. "Progression"
As a
repeated chest pelting
supposition
early onset dementia
bewildered iris
mission statement
as
Horizon line
Testament not old not new
Ampersand
Technology etching That’s enough for today.
"unscheduled" tight
"strangers"
this glass was blown and cut and formed
"Chicken Chow Mein" Nothing is delivered without cost.
[ cohesion and concreteness
Ideals are minimal. Intangible. Disintegrating.
Your fortune: Only you can change your life. No one can do it for you.
It is quite the reasonable goal,
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Text credits: Tori Amos Recent posts:
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Wednesday, May 07, 2003
I feel like shit. I'm sick. This sucks. Besides that, my life's okay. and here is the story i wrote last night. enjoy. Paula could take some stuff. She had learned that. But there was one thing she couldn’t stand. That she hated with all of her being, that she loathed with a passion. Yes. Terri Seymour. And she decided to not get mad, or upset. Just even. Tuesday Night, after the show As Paula left the studio after singing autographs and posing for pictures for some young fanatics who called themselves the Paulakateers (she found that adorable) she walked down the hallway, ready for her revenge that this woman had caused her, the pain of seeing her and hearing her screeching voice and her buck teeth as she hung over the man she adored, Simon Cowell. She longed to be her with a rich pain in her heart she hadn’t felt for some time, and hated herself for even comparing herself to that, that, whore even she went so far to call her. OH yes, she had awaited this day. There she was, and Paula caught her breath. She had never acted on such impulse, but she had a feeling that she would triumph over this. "Yo bitch! Over here, ya Terri!" Paula surprised even herself with her choice of words. As the tacky slut turned, Paula ran down the hallway, removing her large hoop earring as she went. It was about to get really ugly. She removed her shoe with the trademark 3-inch heel, and started by throwing it at her head. Terri managed to swing around it, and started cursing at Paula, assuming the worst, that she had realized her true feeling for Simon and her little spotlight, utilizing her fame as "Simon’s gal pal". Terri screeched, the same noise of a dying parrot, and kicked Paula in the shin. "What the foo? Oh no girlfriend, you did not just go there." Paula retorted haughtily, and reached up to the horse like mane that she called hair, and pulled with all the strength she could force out of her five foot two inch frame. "Own, shit! What the hell is your problem, princess Paula?" Terri sneered. "I only have one problem in the whole fricking world. You." As Paula knocked Terri to the ground, off guard, and smacked her in the face twice before poking her in the eyes. After flinging her against the wall, the pathetic horse-like thing had no chance. As Simon came out to see Terri lying there, he had one thing to ask, really. "Paula, have you been a bad girl?" "Depends on what you consider bad, what’s your flava boy? " she managed out before his kiss blocked out all sense of time, space and anything except the love of these two people that was eternal. Epilogue And Ponyboy went galloping back home over seas someplace where no one really cared to see what became of her. Paula and Simon moved in with each other, and they were happy, the fans were happy, their friends were happy, everyone was happy. The End. |
