Tag: emory

  • Smell

    Last night, I was in the kitchen opening a bottle of wine. Wine goes well with fruit, namely grapes. I opened a container of grapes to put out for Toby and I to munch on as well. When that happen-when the lid popped open-I was placed in front of Halloween. Candy and plastic wrap, pillow…

  • The Contents of mihow: An Autobiography of Songs (Day two)

    I am 21. I have just returned from living in Manchester, England. There’s a house on the 800 block of West College (later demolished) with a porch. Many people meet there regularly to sit outside, have cookouts, drink beer, listen to music, etc. Eric-(future) record label founder, then limo driver-puts on a song. It’s loud…

  • A dream

    I hadn’t seen her in several years but I had heard she was without legs, arms or a torso. I had forgotten by the time I ran into her in a coffee shop of some side street in some unknown town. One would think one would remember such a painful experience but I hadn’t. So…

  • Boogers dude. Boogers.

    Toby said, Don’t tell that story! People will think, ‘First bugs, then crumbling walls, now this… they live in a shit hole!’ And I assure you, we don’t. And I also know Toby and how he really doesn’t care what I say or share on here, so here goes. (hehe, I’ll make it up to…

  • New York City

    I’ve been known as a fruit from time to time. I’ll wonder about and toy with and tickle all the oddities life casually sneaks to us, those weird circumstantial roads one ends up going down where everything (once you’re there) seems almost too planned, as if it was or is meant to be. I can…

  • Ode to people

    During the past few months (7 to be exact) I have dwelled on several questions. After a few frustrating “situations” that happened within my silly little life, I got fed up with my own created horse shit and started to take it all apart. And so instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, drinking,…

  • rid link

    When I was younger, there were some days I would arrive at school wearing some outfit my mother told me not to buy but by then it was too late. And I wore it in spite of her warnings (which may have been more effective if she had just put the mom-roll aside and said,…

  • September 11th, 2001

    Have you ever tried to tell someone about a nightmare? But my mother told me to write. So, here I sit. I can’t believe what my eyes have seen in the past week. I want to rip them out, and if I knew the memory would go with them I might just do so. I…