he's a rafting guide. he had a mohawk but wears it down. his hair is soft and his eyes are very green. he has a perfect nose. his life is completely unlike the life of any other boy i know. he farms, and lives off the land, and camps every night, and can hike for days and raft entire rivers.
the whole boy/girl game suddenly feels so alien to me.
its very strange.
im going rafting w him tues. there might be kissing, since thatll be date 2.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Guest Post 8: Anonymous
He awoke to the sound of heavy purring. Or was it the the fur in his mouth? Whatever. He was confronted with cat breath and a hungry cat sitting squarely on his chest purring inquisitively into his face.
He shoved the fur ball off causing the thing to stumble onto his desk of empty glasses, a laptop. Long unused, crusted over syringes fell and tinkled to the ground.
The cat was all that was left of her. She was gone. Long fucking gone. Up and left without a word. He didnt even own a litter box. He wondered briefly "Where does this thing shit?" He rubbed his eyes.
He hated cats, hated her, hated mornings. He rose slowly.
Despite his feelings for the feline, it represented a truth, evidence.
Long night of heated and sweaty screaming, orgasm after orgasm had been replaced with nap after nap. A tiny mewing mouth wanting to be fed.
The crust and amnesia had been replaced with clarity and full remembrance. The truth of just how mediocre his life had become. The cat brushed up against his legs.
Bliss came in double overhead waves of serotonin and dopamine, cooked and cut, powdered and boiled.
The throbbing pulse stopped when he felt the time had come, that or when the money ran out.
They descended the musty stairs past some bullshit felt rope crusted with jizz and spent hope or up into a cavernous loft with soft dark corners.
The bass line, the kick drum, the bright lights, the fair-weather family he'd made for himself wrapped their leather clad arms around his ego and rubbed and spat and stroked and licked.
All that was left was stupid fucking cat. With an ugly asshole. As adorable as it was annoying.
The thing leapt under an arm chair as his phone began buzzing and scampering across the desk, he disabled his morning alarm.
As he slid the silken knot of his tie the door of his flat burst open.
His roommates stumbled in loudly vacillating between conversation between the merits of modern typographic form and some girls tits or lack-thereof.
He waited for them to disperse and he stepped into the predawn haze. He looked toward the projects and smokestacks that bookended his street. He began walking toward the train hoping the sun would cut through some of the goddamn haze.
He shoved the fur ball off causing the thing to stumble onto his desk of empty glasses, a laptop. Long unused, crusted over syringes fell and tinkled to the ground.
The cat was all that was left of her. She was gone. Long fucking gone. Up and left without a word. He didnt even own a litter box. He wondered briefly "Where does this thing shit?" He rubbed his eyes.
He hated cats, hated her, hated mornings. He rose slowly.
Despite his feelings for the feline, it represented a truth, evidence.
Long night of heated and sweaty screaming, orgasm after orgasm had been replaced with nap after nap. A tiny mewing mouth wanting to be fed.
The crust and amnesia had been replaced with clarity and full remembrance. The truth of just how mediocre his life had become. The cat brushed up against his legs.
Bliss came in double overhead waves of serotonin and dopamine, cooked and cut, powdered and boiled.
The throbbing pulse stopped when he felt the time had come, that or when the money ran out.
They descended the musty stairs past some bullshit felt rope crusted with jizz and spent hope or up into a cavernous loft with soft dark corners.
The bass line, the kick drum, the bright lights, the fair-weather family he'd made for himself wrapped their leather clad arms around his ego and rubbed and spat and stroked and licked.
All that was left was stupid fucking cat. With an ugly asshole. As adorable as it was annoying.
The thing leapt under an arm chair as his phone began buzzing and scampering across the desk, he disabled his morning alarm.
As he slid the silken knot of his tie the door of his flat burst open.
His roommates stumbled in loudly vacillating between conversation between the merits of modern typographic form and some girls tits or lack-thereof.
He waited for them to disperse and he stepped into the predawn haze. He looked toward the projects and smokestacks that bookended his street. He began walking toward the train hoping the sun would cut through some of the goddamn haze.
finally, an update.
i drove through plains, over the mountains, and through the desert.
i rafted the colorado river and i hiked for miles.
i took a thousand pictures, but none of them capture what that is.
its something you'll only know if you do it yourself.
i rafted the colorado river and i hiked for miles.
i took a thousand pictures, but none of them capture what that is.
its something you'll only know if you do it yourself.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
I'm a bad blogger.
I drove 800 miles today, through iowa, nebraska, colorado, and utah. I crossed the rockies by myself, and I made a mess of my blog, while inefficiently promoting Muff MacGuffin's incredibly well written contribution to my ongoing Guest Post project.
A good blogger would be organizing all of todays photos and untold stories into a single post, tweet several "new Guest Post" alerts, and tell you why I drove 1600 miles in fewer than 48 hrs and what ill be doing.
Instead, ill apologize for the continued anarchy of my blog, and assure you that nelson and I are happily settled into our next week-long home, and we need to sleep.
My apologies, dear reader.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
A good blogger would be organizing all of todays photos and untold stories into a single post, tweet several "new Guest Post" alerts, and tell you why I drove 1600 miles in fewer than 48 hrs and what ill be doing.
Instead, ill apologize for the continued anarchy of my blog, and assure you that nelson and I are happily settled into our next week-long home, and we need to sleep.
My apologies, dear reader.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Colorado clouds
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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