February 2012
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Question 2 - Discuss some creative work that...
When I was a little girl, I used to stay at the house of a babysitter who had the strangest painting I’ve seen on her wall. At first glance, anyone would think that the paining simply showed a cocktail party of black-and-white people talking leisurely in a blue room. Yet, none of these people had any facial features except their noses.
This painting really distressed little me, yet I have...
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When hunger made the moon slide
landonrode:
I recently watched a movie where a man on his death bed was getting really pissed off about how cliche everything he had to say about his situation was. That’s how I feel right now, except I’m not on my death bed, I’m in college and adjusting to work life. That last part may be an update: I’ve been working at my school’s Writing Center. It’s like tutoring, only not. I enjoy it. ...
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Thoughts on my Ex-Creative Writing Teachers
I. Ross
“Why don’t we have a search party?,” you wrote. We sat in a café one day and hunted people. You found a secret agent and a Mafioso, And saw the secret agent drown a litter of puppies While the Mafioso helped an old lady across the street.
“It will be the social event of the season” you wrote. It was.
“First searching for reasons, then for words,” you wrote. So we read the news,...
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acephreak asked: Holy shit you probably have the 2 most interesting blogs in all of tumblr haha wow amazing, keep it up! :) If you're ever in Bayamón or San Juan, lemme know and I'll buy you some coffee! Take care :)
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What Does an Abstract Concept Eat, Anyway?
My friends, meet Truth. She’s starving to death For her sister, Lies, steals all her food. She’s dizzy, she’s bruised, she’s losing her breath, And shivering as she wanders ‘round nude.
She calls my name from far away Asking if I have a bite to spare. While I have been Lies’ thrall ‘till this day, Poor Truth calls my heart to open and share.
So let my face tell the truth and none except, That...
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January 2012
13 posts
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Freewriting Exercise
Prompt: Your clothes never suited you like the dust of this road does.
…
You once said your mother was a whore. I know the truth.
She was a secretary, in a bank. Your father was a teller. They worked, for you, for years. You were precious to them, and you never went hungry nor thristy. You had legos and teddybears, and little shoes with laces you were too small to tie up. They tied them...
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Answers!
*This post will be updated if anyone asks me any more questions!
EDIT - Updated again. That’s three askers so far.
Asker 1: 1, 8, 9, 45, 47, 53, 65, 76, 77, 86, 109, 113, 186, 187, 191, 195, 197, 199, 206.
1-How are you?
Shivering. It’s about 68 degrees here, which is pretty much the coldest it ever gets. I know it sounds like nothing compared to the temperatures of, say,...
Ask Me These: send the number and I’ll answer.
1-How are you? 2-Post a picture of yourself. 3-Do you ever wish you were someone else? 4-What is your entire name? 5-How old are you? 6-Age you get mistaken for: 7-Your zodiac/horoscope and if you think it fits your personality: 8-What did you do on your last birthday? 9-What is one thing you would like to accomplish before your next birthday? 10-What is your hair color? 11-Have you ever dyed your...
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A Poem
landonrode:
Every Day I Feel My Body Turning My Mind More Ugly
Every time I learn
Every time I learn that humans are robots.
And I have a bad OS.
SOS,
SOS,
SOS.
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What is the worst book you've ever read? Why was...
A bit of background: When people tell me they like reading, I like to ask them about the kind of things they read. Blame it on my horrible nosiness. Anyway, I used to ask people about their favorite book, until I realized that almost everyone chose Harry Potter, Twilight, or said they didn’t have one. I tried asking myself the same question, and the only thing that came to mind was a book...
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December 2011
15 posts
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I know I'm not a very prolific poster, but...
I may need to take a break from this blog to sort out something that I’ve noticed about myself.
Basically, today I sat down to think about how I’ve been since the ballet recital, and I’ve realized that I haven’t been eating properly. Ok, let’s be honest here: I haven’t been eating, period. I was aware of this from before, of course. I have been obsessing about...
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2011 is almost over. Inbox me something you've...
Inspired by Christmas hope, I’m reblogging this. I doubt that anyone’s going to bother, though. I doubt that anyone has anything secret/special/interesting they want to say to me anyway. *sigh*
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A Scrap
I’m writing a few little things, but I don’t have anything ready to post here. I feel like because it’s Commercialized Present-Giving Day I have to post something, though, so here’s a little scrap I produced in five minutes for a prompt thread on /lit/. It’s not Christmassy at all, sorry.
After the three old ladies left us at Danton, he and I were alone in the...
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A Question - Should I change my blog's layout? Is...
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Book Review: Plath, The Bell Jar
landonrode:
Summary: I’ve associated Sylvia Plath with suicide for a long time. Secondary to me was the fact she was a poet and author of just one book, this being the one. I’ve known for quite awhile about her life and death without having read her, about how she killed herself by sticking her head in an oven. The conversation that finally got me to read The Bell Jar was about Hemingway at...
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Pas de Deux
As he lowers me from a high sobresaut, the stage lights blind me temporarily. I can’t see the audience, can’t see the camera, can’t see the edge of the stage in front of me.
He guides me with his hands around my waist. Two Chenné turns. Chassé. Jump right into his arms. Roll onto his shoulders. Arch my back as his hands grip me tight. For a second, I am a dove, a captive bird inside the tight...
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A Collection of Random Thoughts, because I am too...
Thoughts on Christmas lights:
Is it just me, or are there less Christmas lights around than when I was a little girl?
Thoughts on being the lead in a ballet:
My toes do not like this at all, and are considering setting up a mini tent city to protest the torture I’m inflicting on them.
If my semi-attractive but wimpy partner drops me during the show, I swear I’ll cut off his...
November 2011
15 posts
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How It Began
He told me, that night when we were sitting alone on the old plum couch in my living room. I can’t say it surprised me, although I had never thought of it before. He told me, and asked me how it made me feel.
I don’t feel anything, I could have said. I didn’t know until now, but in a way, I did all along.
“I don’t mind,” I said. I smiled.
That surprised him. His eyes grew round and he stammered a...
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