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. séquelles d'adrénaline .
la Fille: I hate French language.
Moi: You've said that before.
la Fille: Why speak it on me?
Moi: There is no language on the lips of a woman which, in sound, expresses such lush adoration. La langue elle-même, dans son écho dans le stress des voyelles, c'est de la poésie.
la Fille: Fuck you Mandy. Is ugly.
la Fille: I love you.
Moi: I have thought this through ... it is not working for either of us. Your anger and bullying, it is too much for me.
la Fille: If i wanted you to go I would tell you to leave.
Moi: What is it that you want then? Tell me ... now, before I leave.
la Fille: I want you to stay forever.
Moi: ... I can give you that.
Moi: ... it's clear what he is doing ... all his 'kindness' and 'friendship' ... it is just a path ... he is in love with you ...
la Fille: He likes you, he tells me so.
Moi: You don't know what your friends tell me he says.
la Fille: Your insane jealousy ... is sick.
la Fille: ... smiling, in evening dress, heels, makeup perfect at five-thirty AM, laying on her back from being shoved to the bed ... I knew you would do that.
Moi: ... of course I would.
la Fille: God ... I've missed your mouth.
Moi: Fuck ... please stop clicking your mouse and look at me when we speak ...
la Fille: I do this; an outlet of nerves.
Moi: '... there are more clicks than us in this place ...'
la Fille: I love you.
Moi: Yes, a friend had her lip pierced and looked as though her spermstick boyfriend had punched her mouth ... she warned me years ago.
Piercist: Why now? Something significant?
Moi: *holding still while a black dot was placed* ummm ... i want to flag the pain of kisses ... you'll order the gold hoop then?
étranger en masse: Hey EMO! What ya taking pictures of?
Moi: Your past ... asshole.
© stolen from Amanda's butterfly inked breast 2014
Image: "You Could Have It All" by © 2008
la Fille: I hate French language.
Moi: You've said that before.
la Fille: Why speak it on me?
Moi: There is no language on the lips of a woman which, in sound, expresses such lush adoration. La langue elle-même, dans son écho dans le stress des voyelles, c'est de la poésie.
la Fille: Fuck you Mandy. Is ugly.
la Fille: I love you.
Moi: I have thought this through ... it is not working for either of us. Your anger and bullying, it is too much for me.
la Fille: If i wanted you to go I would tell you to leave.
Moi: What is it that you want then? Tell me ... now, before I leave.
la Fille: I want you to stay forever.
Moi: ... I can give you that.
Moi: ... it's clear what he is doing ... all his 'kindness' and 'friendship' ... it is just a path ... he is in love with you ...
la Fille: He likes you, he tells me so.
Moi: You don't know what your friends tell me he says.
la Fille: Your insane jealousy ... is sick.
la Fille: ... smiling, in evening dress, heels, makeup perfect at five-thirty AM, laying on her back from being shoved to the bed ... I knew you would do that.
Moi: ... of course I would.
la Fille: God ... I've missed your mouth.
Moi: Fuck ... please stop clicking your mouse and look at me when we speak ...
la Fille: I do this; an outlet of nerves.
Moi: '... there are more clicks than us in this place ...'
la Fille: I love you.
Moi: '... I wish I still had that Tuvaché Jungle Gardenia to soak her mattress with ...'
Piercist: ... there will be swelling tomorrow and it is going to hurt like hell for a week or two.Moi: Yes, a friend had her lip pierced and looked as though her spermstick boyfriend had punched her mouth ... she warned me years ago.
Piercist: Why now? Something significant?
Moi: *holding still while a black dot was placed* ummm ... i want to flag the pain of kisses ... you'll order the gold hoop then?
étranger en masse: Hey EMO! What ya taking pictures of?
Moi: Your past ... asshole.
© stolen from Amanda's butterfly inked breast 2014
Image: "You Could Have It All" by © 2008
.April ending.
.April ending.
Twitter™ is also like this, her search through detritus layers of life; linear in procedure. Time as lines, the TL: a wanted sequence for us to cling to even knowing the quantum cosmology of particle and wave mechanics. Twitter does not randomly present us. Neglecting even the theme sequence groupings which is a more likely portrayal of our natures.
It is left to us to paint our own contrails.
Across her words lay themes, not necessarily unique or original, but hers. An underlying hum of message machinery, not to be heard but sensed, felt.
The longing for the extraneous 'power' to which we cling, adhere, our desire fo
. backgrounds .
. backgrounds .
eat me play me
.
"And it feels as though God has abandoned you … in a stark place."
-A. Christie-
.
.
An arrangement of pieces, choreography of accidental encounters each of which denied them a presence or indicated any possible progress.
.
I do not command, I obtain.
.
She'd belittled the Plath of me, that small measure which i yet adored; that then, became a tipping point in our conjectured inevitability.
.
in crush
you lick
the soil soul of
my backgrounds
.
I'll make you quiet.
.
slicing through the young
smiling
alcohol ghost
.
I'll make you run.
.
driv
.upon surrender.
.upon surrender.
.
... only she knows ...
.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
E.Bishop
.
i sang
.
touch stones without remark tumbled
one after another
pathway footsteps
unnoted
one
after
another
no clack of disapprovals shed
one after another
creek bed’s
surrender
ocean’s
slickened
staid
.
as though i were an insult though they never spat me out
as though i were a crime they'd committed in dead of night
as though i were several different outfits now out
.last love.
.last love.
.
Why?
because i want to see beautiful things
think beautiful things
dream beautiful things
.
.
Oh they're running t'old steam engine tour train through t'valley today. God i wish i was having coal smoke and burning cinders blowin in my face. *picturing the screaming flaming tourists beating each other*
Fuck me with a jackhammer humans ARE the funniest damn creatures. Mom to six year old child "Hurry honey get that pretty summer frock on, we've got to catch the open air tour train!" Two hours later the scorched-hair tour family clambers offa the Old Timey tour train ... "Now wasn't THAT fun!"
And you know what REALLY ma
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wow! intense & i loved it. went thru it twice like i wanted more!
great job amanda! great job. you keep amazing me more and more
great job amanda! great job. you keep amazing me more and more