Vampiradini and the Makers Marks

HERE ARE SOME THOUGHTS:

My life has been an out-of-body experience.

There are two children on a plane who clumsily hold hands. So then they try to kiss each other and end up bumping heads. Eventually they give up and he falls asleep. I don’t think they realize how similar this is to a mature relationship.

Let me suck up your soul and spit it into a jar of cold water.

Peter’s dad died on the front lawn while the two of them were doing yard work.

I taste like salty meat.

Bank tellers don’t do anything except sit around and smell good all day.

AND THEN:

Sometimes I get an intense fear that I’m outside of myself, like that one time in the basement of that Chinese restaurant. Floating through space, trapped at a table with people I recognize but can’t place… tears rolling down my cheeks as I climb the stairs, past the bar and the kitchen fires, through the sliding glass until I am out on the street and there’s a crowd leaving the theater, with the sun setting and its light reflecting off the marquee.

It’s nearly midnight, and someone is stroking my thigh, but I don’t know who.

I was walking home from the bars on New Year’s Eve, and I tried to commit suicide by repeatedly throwing myself to the ground.

If you walked into an airport, and everyone looked the same, and everyone dressed the same, would you feel secure?

I try to see pictures in the black spindles and dark patches of filthy lake water. A dog barking, a few fingers, halfway alphabet pieces, and an ant hill… every fiber is vivid, tinted, by my hand print. Buy my hand print.

I don’t even want to feel the aura of the story.

Three kids from my school were arrested today for killing a hitchhiker. I’m having trouble caring.

AND NOW
Two Haiku:

Apocolypse Now
Heart of Darkness told anew
Sweet adaptation

Killed by pickled fish
Shakespeare ate himself to death
What a way to end.

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