I wasn’t just the madwoman in the attic—I was the attic itself. The past was all over me, all under me, all inside me. They were gone, without a word, snapped out, made accidental, isolated, like ghosts even from our pity.
Entries from December 25th, 2010
December 22nd, 2010 · No Comments · Uncategorized
Blind blind blind. We want punks in the palace Cause punks got the loveliest dreams And our gang is liquored and lovely And smart and sweet and lame And burn with a curious flame That spits and kicks and shines And trumpets play for Of awakened dreams Some times there’s an abandoned baby Who claims [...]
December 15th, 2010 · No Comments · Uncategorized
He didn’t even notice it at first. She started to change. From the day the baby was born, she began to get irritated with everything around her. She got mad at everything. Even the baby seemed to be an injustice to her. He kept trying to make everything all right for her. Buy her things. [...]
December 4th, 2010 · 1 Comment · Uncategorized
Sometimes I attempt to kill in my dreams. But do you know what happens? For instance I hold a gun. For instance I aim at a bland, quietly interesting enemy. Oh, I press the trigger all right, but one bullet after another feebly drops on the floor from the sheepish muzzle. In those dreams, my [...]