The Land of Misfit Sentences

Entry 3 - 8/27/2024 3:25pm

Damn it. I forgot about this site again didn't I. Well, I wish I could say there was a lot to fill you in on but alas I am not a liar(as far as you know). My brain enters haze periods frequently, perhaps I'll find some journal scraps to help me remember what came before. . .

Entry 2 - 4/10/2024 5:54pm

OH GOD WHAT YEAR IS IT?! Oh, hello there. It's been so long since I've been here that I've forgotten my manners. I'll admit it. I completely forgot that a) I made a website b) That I made a decent website and c) that I like text as a medium. Needless to say, I have written since my last entries. Perhaps, they will make it to the digital page....

Entry 1 - 10/9/2023 8:02 am

Well, hello there. If I'm being honest, I'm mostly just layout testing while in class. This is filler text. We're talking about the role of drums in musisc(symbols are more of a filler element, whereas the kick tends to hold the pulse. Snare tends to add to the pulse and can add flar as well, often in conjunction with the kick drum). Every day, I wish I knew how to play piano. Maybe in time I'll get there. Pianos ae versitile, similar to guitar. I kind of consider those like vocals in terms of usage, but that takes a bit of a liberal perspective on the role of vocals in music. Man. Fuck Pianos. Anyways, thanks for reading.

BEFORE THE SITE

ANGELS DROP LIKE FLIES

I saw an angel today

Dead on the side of the road

Most days, I would've kept driving

But, blinded by the holy roadkill,

(and with 20 minutes to kill)

I pulled my car over

and sunk my knees in the dirt.

I didn't have a candle

So I brushed off what I remembered from Yom Kippur with Rabbi Mendy

And shared a mourner's kaddish.

My voice was hoarse from the dry desert air

And even if it was shakey,

I knew it was heard.

I put my hand on the crime scene

Carbon-to-carbon connection

(what are angels made of anyways?)

It's the kind of thing that makes you wish life was contagious.

By time I saw it on the road,

This too had already passed.

I couldn't have changed it,

I'm no doctor(of medicine or time travel)

But in that moment, I offered what I could.

A piece of my time, my mind,

And a home remedy for loneliness

I returned to my car

My breath had eased to a relaxed rhythm.

Perhaps it was a guardian angel.

Maybe I just stopped on the side of the road.

ODE TO TONIGHT(or Nostalgic Fags on the Porch)

"Let's keep a good night going," I wink at the moon.

The wind carries my words for me

from my lungs to the stars and the rings on Saturn

but it skips over Venus and heads straight to Mars

and looking at constellations makes me dizzy.

I tap my frugal cigarette,

taking each drag like my last

but knowing this habit dies hard

and I'm no killer.

Nights that are shockingly cosmic.

feeling every sunrise, sunset,

every cricket's chirp and bird's snore.

I light another stick with your lighter.

10 years ago, I said I'd never get rid of it.

I've held true, even if you'll never know it.

Did I do it for you? For me?

Who cares. It's a good light

and even a somber sigh of the past beats amnesia.

I'll never admit that I remember. I'll never get the chance.

It's easy enough to forget.

You dashed through TSA so quickly I almost couldn't see the cold gaze on your face.

The moon decided to tuck away behind the clouds tonight.

The cigarette acts like an incense stick in the ashtray.

I EAT THE SAINTS LIKE YOU FOR BREAKFAST

I eat saints like you for breakfast.

It goes well with a side of potatoes

And compliments the rising sun.

I pick your crosses out of my teeth

And spit out the arrows.

I sip my coffee and read the paper,

With a particularly sacred audience.

If I'm being completely honest,

I'm not a fan of the taste.

But if I stop eating saints,

Your hands will be viewed as generous

And I'll never get away with biting them again.