the dance of the ink riddled fingers

Tee, underwear, socks…ahh, here it is: smile. I’ll wear them all.

Posted in 52 pickup, how was your day?, thought spills by enisea on 29/01/2010

Somebody sits in an oversized shirt (it reads: WHAT IS THIS REAL LIFE YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT?), underwear and a cousin’s socks. Mangled left-over, slightly oily curls from a reluctance to wash her undied  hair.  Listening to electric guitar cries hardly given justice through her 11.1″ laptop speakers. The cymbals beating down with the guitar as it cries itself over. They’re called The Analyte, and they have myspace. The sun just lit up the backyard.  She needs to buy toiletries. She’ll get them soon. Drive out and drive back. Fix her best friend’s skirt. Edit another friend’s cover letter. Wait by the phone to receive a call from that arts group who owns that venue she wants to use for some charity-save-the-world-a-dollar-and-a-beer-at-a-time scheme.  Darn these echoes, she smiles at rebellion.

I don’t know what she’s trying to do. I don’t know who she’s trying to be. But I do know she’s heck sick of the routine stretch of skin she does little in. I talked to God today. I think He wants me to do something about it.

I’m going to get dressed now.


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