alligator purse with a chain. Lace.
The clouds roll in past March.
Hanging signs on the sidewalks. HOME. The Adventures of Tintin.
Shirtless man with a hot dog in his hand, Fell Street after midnight.
REMIXES AT POPSCENE: Joy Division/ The Black Keys/ Foster the People/ Depeche Mode/ MGMT
Coffee in rain. Friends. This is too sweet. Checkers. Napkins. Voice mails in the rain. I miss you.
After the store closes, we can have our laughs, our drinks. STARBUCKS, TOO COMMERCIAL.
Saying I love you. And when?
I gave the wrong change today. But was he so nice about it all! You tell me a funny story, now I feel better.
Here's the thing. Alone. Jazz music. Dim lights. Accents, and cheap novels for a big man. The Skype sound. The sun was NOT shining, Mr. Sinatra. Fogged, thick windows. Free water. Free People. Hippie things. No longer for me. Hung that phone up. No parties tonight for me. Bike in the headlights. A thin, taupe jacket. Where is my dinner tonight? Where is my heart tonight? It is happy-- it is alone.
THESE WORDS HAVE MEANING.
Showing posts with label thoughts from my notepad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts from my notepad. Show all posts
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
Orinda compares to an English town.
Shadows cast on paper by the warm sunlight. DUTCH COCOA POWDER.
Loud lovers on Bart. Morning meet up at King's coffeeshop on Clayton Road, the old gang always eager to talk life and other bullshit of their standards. In their corner, it's a pleasing sight for friendships-- or perhaps strangers finding consensus in maple bars and chocolate French curlers.
This is California. Oakland and fog. There are palm trees here. Even in December. That's when they flourish.
Shadows cast on paper by the warm sunlight. DUTCH COCOA POWDER.
Loud lovers on Bart. Morning meet up at King's coffeeshop on Clayton Road, the old gang always eager to talk life and other bullshit of their standards. In their corner, it's a pleasing sight for friendships-- or perhaps strangers finding consensus in maple bars and chocolate French curlers.
This is California. Oakland and fog. There are palm trees here. Even in December. That's when they flourish.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
The girl in the BART train.
Sky vodka bottle rolling around on the 5.
It is a trial, everyday. How well you should react to even the most unique little surprises.
Smiles, 'staches, blondes, tats, hair clips-- the way couples look into each others' eyes when they face each other and grip to the railings above their clouded heads.
"We bike at night, because we must (by our helmets, of course)."
The smack of kissing lips.
Edward Hopper, "Automat" 1927
Sky vodka bottle rolling around on the 5.
It is a trial, everyday. How well you should react to even the most unique little surprises.
Smiles, 'staches, blondes, tats, hair clips-- the way couples look into each others' eyes when they face each other and grip to the railings above their clouded heads.
"We bike at night, because we must (by our helmets, of course)."
The smack of kissing lips.
Edward Hopper, "Automat" 1927
Elderly couples give me a great hope for lasting love.
I am strange. But happily strange.
Friday, February 24, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
The world looks different today. It is brighter, feels a cold in the air that's no unfriendliness-- this is sunshine, and the world woke having plenty of sleep, I should think.
The crackheads, the wheelchairs, the sidewalks, durags on short matted hairs belonging to people who might smell of their own piss. Veterans, vehicles, liquor stores on every corner, their shopping carts scattered on streets but careful not to die in the middle of the road. Through the windows of the bus, this is not a shield-- they do not separate me from them, but gives me an observation of an oddly scenic picture of inner-city routines.
Dragon flies. Where are the dragon flies?
ACADEMY OF SCIENCES-- I saw, fish, oceans, birds, trees. My worst fears slithered before my eyes. Warm, open, where to run first? A wonder they should have no mermaids, nor dragons, a phoenix inside. I saw the eyes of children-- they were awake, as if life had just been given to them in that moment.
To Do: Watch more Diego Luna films.
She kicked the glass slipper and donned cream combat boots, blowing that sinister kiss at the prince as she jumped with fulfillment onto the back of the motorcycle with Matt Helders.
Earl Grey, your grace, it's been too long, dear friend. How are you to this bright, soft-spoken day? Too long, I saw, and how gracious of you to have brought sugar!
11:00 P.M.
Look up! Up to the windows, in those damned alleys.
The crackheads, the wheelchairs, the sidewalks, durags on short matted hairs belonging to people who might smell of their own piss. Veterans, vehicles, liquor stores on every corner, their shopping carts scattered on streets but careful not to die in the middle of the road. Through the windows of the bus, this is not a shield-- they do not separate me from them, but gives me an observation of an oddly scenic picture of inner-city routines.
Dragon flies. Where are the dragon flies?
ACADEMY OF SCIENCES-- I saw, fish, oceans, birds, trees. My worst fears slithered before my eyes. Warm, open, where to run first? A wonder they should have no mermaids, nor dragons, a phoenix inside. I saw the eyes of children-- they were awake, as if life had just been given to them in that moment.
To Do: Watch more Diego Luna films.
She kicked the glass slipper and donned cream combat boots, blowing that sinister kiss at the prince as she jumped with fulfillment onto the back of the motorcycle with Matt Helders.
Earl Grey, your grace, it's been too long, dear friend. How are you to this bright, soft-spoken day? Too long, I saw, and how gracious of you to have brought sugar!
11:00 P.M.
Look up! Up to the windows, in those damned alleys.
Monday, February 20, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
It's always coffee or tea... why not COFFEE AND TEA??
-- LOAD THEM BOTH WITH SUGAR.
You: What are you studying?
Me: I'm an English major at the University of San Francisco.
You: Oh, you want to be a teacher?
Me: No, I want to get into publishing and become a writer.
You: What do you write?
Me: (I'm always temped to reply, "I really don't know!")
Dirty minds, dirty dishes. The pretentious sounds of Marley & The Smiths, throwing empty wine glasses at the paper lanterns to make a firework finale to our Thursday night in.
Asian man. Harry Potter glasses!!
Cars on the freeway are traveling like the asteroid belt but with stars00 as if they suppose to be racing in the dark against this old train. They pass us.
-- LOAD THEM BOTH WITH SUGAR.
You: What are you studying?
Me: I'm an English major at the University of San Francisco.
You: Oh, you want to be a teacher?
Me: No, I want to get into publishing and become a writer.
You: What do you write?
Me: (I'm always temped to reply, "I really don't know!")
Dirty minds, dirty dishes. The pretentious sounds of Marley & The Smiths, throwing empty wine glasses at the paper lanterns to make a firework finale to our Thursday night in.
Asian man. Harry Potter glasses!!
Cars on the freeway are traveling like the asteroid belt but with stars00 as if they suppose to be racing in the dark against this old train. They pass us.
Monday, February 13, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
BART attendant stumbles over his words on the intercom.
AMERICANO. Pleasant Hill downtown.
I can see Mountain View Cemetery from the tracks.
Hipsters, homeless. Girls, cigarette-mouthed boys. The Captain Morgan man with a lolipiop-- MONTGOMEREY STATION.
I took the 5 today because I couldn't wait for the 31. Cleaner, too.
the mission district-- it is old, it is life. The mission is where hard dreams refuse to die, when they have gone only so far, and just out of reach. I lost a silver button out here.
PHONE CALLS FROM CHICAGO. 4 PM.
You don't realize it, but you're huming to yourself./
AMERICANO. Pleasant Hill downtown.
I can see Mountain View Cemetery from the tracks.
Hipsters, homeless. Girls, cigarette-mouthed boys. The Captain Morgan man with a lolipiop-- MONTGOMEREY STATION.
I took the 5 today because I couldn't wait for the 31. Cleaner, too.
the mission district-- it is old, it is life. The mission is where hard dreams refuse to die, when they have gone only so far, and just out of reach. I lost a silver button out here.
PHONE CALLS FROM CHICAGO. 4 PM.
You don't realize it, but you're huming to yourself./
Saturday, February 11, 2012
thoughts from my notepad:
RULE: Always acknowledge and say "hello" to the bus drivers.
People with pretty blue eyes in class.
M&Ms that taste like lipstick.
Read John Steinbeck. Again.
Back and forth to the apartment. Back and forth. Do you even live in there that often? -- But it's so small a space.
OMG. 5 Muni inward to Ferry Plaza. Asian woman's hand got caught between the back doors & was almost dragged! People pleaded frantically with driver to stop. Asian woman embarrassed but grateful.
lemons. coriander. sea salt.
My heart goes out to performers against the bumpy walls of the Powell BART station.
Acoustics near midnight.
6 hours of sleep tonight uuuggghhh.
People with pretty blue eyes in class.
M&Ms that taste like lipstick.
Read John Steinbeck. Again.
Back and forth to the apartment. Back and forth. Do you even live in there that often? -- But it's so small a space.
OMG. 5 Muni inward to Ferry Plaza. Asian woman's hand got caught between the back doors & was almost dragged! People pleaded frantically with driver to stop. Asian woman embarrassed but grateful.
lemons. coriander. sea salt.
My heart goes out to performers against the bumpy walls of the Powell BART station.
Acoustics near midnight.
6 hours of sleep tonight uuuggghhh.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
thoughts from my notepad
Captain America ads still in Bart stations
A man with rosy cheeks.
sunshine!
I am home late.
A man with rosy cheeks.
sunshine!
I am home late.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
thoughts from my notepad
the world looks different today. it is brighter, feels a cold in the air that's no contempt-- this is sunshine, and the world awoke having plenty of sleep, i should think.
"and it comes behind us, like a dragon flying to a halt." (the 21 muni line, San Francisco)
dirty minds, dirty dishes. the pretentious sounds of Marley and the Smiths, throwing empty wine glasses at the paper lanterns to make a firework finale to our Thursday night in.
"and it comes behind us, like a dragon flying to a halt." (the 21 muni line, San Francisco)
dirty minds, dirty dishes. the pretentious sounds of Marley and the Smiths, throwing empty wine glasses at the paper lanterns to make a firework finale to our Thursday night in.
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Mission District
it is old, it is life. the mission is where hard dreams refuse to die, when they have gone only so far, and just out of reach.
thoughts from my notepad
on your hand, trace your life lines— extend them with your dreams!
ONLY IF I HAD AN APARTMENT.
How the hazy fog meets the rooftops at their dwindling halo of what seem like fireflies of a dream skyline.
“And if they were to fall over that uncertain edge, their deaths would not be in vain.”
Filipinos talk loudly on BART.
ROCKRIDGE STATION. love it.
The sun shines brightly today. It stings my heavy eyes to which the new thick coats of waterproof mascara dry.
wearing BIG headphones.
The dark tunnels of the BART route cast dim reflections on the dirty windows which I use as mirrors.
The pigeons dare to soar close and above the electric lines. Cold air. Blue sky.
ONLY IF I HAD AN APARTMENT.
How the hazy fog meets the rooftops at their dwindling halo of what seem like fireflies of a dream skyline.
“And if they were to fall over that uncertain edge, their deaths would not be in vain.”
Filipinos talk loudly on BART.
ROCKRIDGE STATION. love it.
The sun shines brightly today. It stings my heavy eyes to which the new thick coats of waterproof mascara dry.
wearing BIG headphones.
The dark tunnels of the BART route cast dim reflections on the dirty windows which I use as mirrors.
The pigeons dare to soar close and above the electric lines. Cold air. Blue sky.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
thoughts from my notepad
Oh these crazy, wandering thoughts. —BOSSA NOVA—
Coffee, coffee, sugar. (lips like sugar)
NEW BLACK SKINNY JEANS./ I really like this pen. I will not give it back.
Mel’s Drive In.
“12:51” —The Strokes
Coffee, coffee, sugar. (lips like sugar)
NEW BLACK SKINNY JEANS./ I really like this pen. I will not give it back.
Mel’s Drive In.
“12:51” —The Strokes
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