Words.

Are there no ends to the tricks you can make words perform?

Friday, August 6, 2010

Timeless exerpts, 8/6/10

Poets, writers - they don't have the same mentality as someone who plays sports. I should know. I do both. There is a poet in me, a writer in me. There is an athlete in me, but I am also Gemini, and I have no need of being a single entity. I can be many and one at the same time. In the same way I can do math and love science but wish to be an author to make my living by - I am humanities and sciences. I am a combination of everything that may be confusing in this world.

But there is something inherently strange about touching the dead.
I don't really like it.
Even dead insects.
It's strange.
...So
much stranger when I realize that the mouse breathed with lungs the way
I do, instead of through its knees the way a grasshopper does.

I love to lie.
And I love to taste the way the world tastes.
Or tasted.
And I want to move on. Somewhere farther away than this hell hole.
I hate it here.
They drown puppies.

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