Sunday, June 29, 2008
chapter 5: love
At 3:53pm its sunny out, and hot. Real hot. Samantha has been leaning against the brick building, built sometime in the booming 20s by a grain man whom later jumped off the roof, letting her back slowly begin to bake. She's been waiting for the past 25 minutes for the westbound 49 to take her from downtown back out to her clustered and claustrophobic studio apartment. Amongst the crowd of system analysts, aspiring engineers and paralegals she looks more like a club DJ. Samantha leans there with her eyes closed, messenger bag thrown over one shoulder, and oversized SONY headphones. Her headphones have been a godsend and help her drown out the outside world. "Love, love will tear us apart, again" blasts in her ears. It helps to heal her broken heart. She slowly begins to realize that she hates this city.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Chapter 4: Blinded By The Light
The sun poured onto her face, causing her to pull down the sun visor. The way the light hit his face, she thought, made him look like a British actor. A tall, stoic man, with high cheek bones and frosted hair. She loved him, or at least tried to convince herself that she did. She squinted her eyes and strained to figure out what he was thinking. She could see a drop of sweat roll down his cheek. It was moments like this when she thought he was perfect.
The sun poured onto her face, causing her to pull down the sun visor. The way the light hit his face, she thought, made him look like a British actor. A tall, stoic man, with high cheek bones and frosted hair. She loved him, or at least tried to convince herself that she did. She squinted her eyes and strained to figure out what he was thinking. She could see a drop of sweat roll down his cheek. It was moments like this when she thought he was perfect.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
chapter 3: middle class blues.
The light is hitting my eyes. Its 3:14 in afternoon. There is some movie about a popular folk artist who went to the same University as me on TV. Naturally, I'm intrigued. Of course though they don't use real names, and keep things semi-secretive. In all actuality, its like a semi-fictional theatrical version of a 2 hour documentary, done by a semi-overrated director, that I originally saw on public television a few years ago. I'm sort of confused by it and totally engulfed in it.
A year ago I was on a train, heading to out to a rainy coast, helping one of my best friends move. Essentially, looking back on it, I was really helping them get out of my life. Its kinda sad if you take time to think about it. Sometimes I think I about it, but i kinda try not to. I guess thought people are only a telephone call away, right? Right.
Its now 3:35 my hair is still wet from a shower i took almost 2 hours ago. Fuck humidity. I've been thinking about films, about wanting to be a filmmaker when I was 18, I was chalk full of ambition back in those days. But whose to say I'm not full of ambition now? I think it kinda depends on what type of ambition you're talking about. Right now I wanna buy some new clothes.
So I sit, with a new song spinning in my head.
"I was born by a lover that I never touched.
And I saw the sun falling down on his love.
If you ever come to California we'll talk it through.
And fall in love, fall in love, fall in love.
My dreams got handed out one at a time.
I don't recall anything that kept you in line.
The movies we played, all of the hollywood screens.
Hey you wrote that script just for me.
To all of the enemies you didn't respect.
All of your handy work had gone deaf.
I'll be here faster than them.
The turntables will set you free.."
But that song is pretty fucking terrible. Except for the line "turntables will set you free." Thats because its kinda a play off of a Lifter Puller song. And they totally rule.
The light is hitting my eyes. Its 3:14 in afternoon. There is some movie about a popular folk artist who went to the same University as me on TV. Naturally, I'm intrigued. Of course though they don't use real names, and keep things semi-secretive. In all actuality, its like a semi-fictional theatrical version of a 2 hour documentary, done by a semi-overrated director, that I originally saw on public television a few years ago. I'm sort of confused by it and totally engulfed in it.
A year ago I was on a train, heading to out to a rainy coast, helping one of my best friends move. Essentially, looking back on it, I was really helping them get out of my life. Its kinda sad if you take time to think about it. Sometimes I think I about it, but i kinda try not to. I guess thought people are only a telephone call away, right? Right.
Its now 3:35 my hair is still wet from a shower i took almost 2 hours ago. Fuck humidity. I've been thinking about films, about wanting to be a filmmaker when I was 18, I was chalk full of ambition back in those days. But whose to say I'm not full of ambition now? I think it kinda depends on what type of ambition you're talking about. Right now I wanna buy some new clothes.
So I sit, with a new song spinning in my head.
"I was born by a lover that I never touched.
And I saw the sun falling down on his love.
If you ever come to California we'll talk it through.
And fall in love, fall in love, fall in love.
My dreams got handed out one at a time.
I don't recall anything that kept you in line.
The movies we played, all of the hollywood screens.
Hey you wrote that script just for me.
To all of the enemies you didn't respect.
All of your handy work had gone deaf.
I'll be here faster than them.
The turntables will set you free.."
But that song is pretty fucking terrible. Except for the line "turntables will set you free." Thats because its kinda a play off of a Lifter Puller song. And they totally rule.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Chapter 2: Grotto
Across the sea of lights, hidden in the back unit of an art deco styled apartment building sits Andrew. His face illuminated by the glow of the Dell laptop. Even though he hasn't had a meaningful conversation with anyone in years, he feels strangely connected to the world via a weak wireless connection. It spews useless information about Hollywood stars checking into rehab, and the latest moon landing conspiracy. He doesn't even bother to get up for work anymore. His cough has just gotten too bad, and he fucking hated that job anyway. He's been waiting ever so patiently for someone to come and make him feel young again. The lines on face give the impression that he's lived a life worth telling. But truthfully, Andrew usually spends his days alone flipping the pages of magazines lined with half naked blonde bombshells and drinking luke warm lager. Secretly he wishes that the love of his life would come and knock on his door. Opening his mind and heart to new experiences.
Across the sea of lights, hidden in the back unit of an art deco styled apartment building sits Andrew. His face illuminated by the glow of the Dell laptop. Even though he hasn't had a meaningful conversation with anyone in years, he feels strangely connected to the world via a weak wireless connection. It spews useless information about Hollywood stars checking into rehab, and the latest moon landing conspiracy. He doesn't even bother to get up for work anymore. His cough has just gotten too bad, and he fucking hated that job anyway. He's been waiting ever so patiently for someone to come and make him feel young again. The lines on face give the impression that he's lived a life worth telling. But truthfully, Andrew usually spends his days alone flipping the pages of magazines lined with half naked blonde bombshells and drinking luke warm lager. Secretly he wishes that the love of his life would come and knock on his door. Opening his mind and heart to new experiences.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
the story of sam pt 1
Chapter 1: The Drone
With the clouds rolling in over the towering skyscrapers, Samantha looks up. Her medium length auburn hair gets tossed like helicopter seeds in the wind. The dust fills her eyes, which in turn makes them water. She remembers back to what she heard over the AM frequency last night. A bright young politician, fair skinned and sharp jawed, spoke elegantly about uniting the people, about bringing out love (love will save save us all). She remembered thinking that at the time she thought it was brilliantly moving speech. But really all she can remember is what Steven Colbert had to say about the 2008 NHL championship.
She glances over at window display just before the street light turns green. On the other side of the soap stained glass she notices the newest Cannon digital camera sitting there. It brings back memories of seeing a commercial on TV a few weeks ago. In it, some up and coming tennis scarlet proudly snapped photo after photo of her smug attitude wielding dog. She remembers how much that commercial pissed her off. "Fuck skinny blonde girls." she thought.
As the light turns green Samantha cautiously steps out into the crosswalk. Only two more blocks until she can get to the bus stop. Hopefully she'll make the bus in time, or else she'll miss her transfer.
With the clouds rolling in over the towering skyscrapers, Samantha looks up. Her medium length auburn hair gets tossed like helicopter seeds in the wind. The dust fills her eyes, which in turn makes them water. She remembers back to what she heard over the AM frequency last night. A bright young politician, fair skinned and sharp jawed, spoke elegantly about uniting the people, about bringing out love (love will save save us all). She remembered thinking that at the time she thought it was brilliantly moving speech. But really all she can remember is what Steven Colbert had to say about the 2008 NHL championship.
She glances over at window display just before the street light turns green. On the other side of the soap stained glass she notices the newest Cannon digital camera sitting there. It brings back memories of seeing a commercial on TV a few weeks ago. In it, some up and coming tennis scarlet proudly snapped photo after photo of her smug attitude wielding dog. She remembers how much that commercial pissed her off. "Fuck skinny blonde girls." she thought.
As the light turns green Samantha cautiously steps out into the crosswalk. Only two more blocks until she can get to the bus stop. Hopefully she'll make the bus in time, or else she'll miss her transfer.
Monday, June 2, 2008
you took off all of your clothes, and stood by the door.
well, at least he'll be here soon.
and as you get up to leave, he says you're everything
that he could ever hope to be.
you read all of the books, that told you what you could be come.
if you were just a little bit taller.
so was it worth all the money? you could hear all the voices yelling.
"you're always welcome here"
the sun is coming up, you can finally go to sleep.
all of your friends claim that you're dead.
well, at least he'll be here soon.
and as you get up to leave, he says you're everything
that he could ever hope to be.
you read all of the books, that told you what you could be come.
if you were just a little bit taller.
so was it worth all the money? you could hear all the voices yelling.
"you're always welcome here"
the sun is coming up, you can finally go to sleep.
all of your friends claim that you're dead.
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