One of my favorite things to do with language is to play around with words and sounds to make them sound beautiful. The following is a slightly intertwined collection of these experiments. 


The lights sail down the river. Slowly and carefully, they flicker down the winding road into the everlasting path of effervescent, luminous darkness. My eyes follow them down their journey until their lights fade from sight. The hesitant candles begin to shimmer to my eyes, and they blur together. The stars above and the river below twinkle upon the broad canvas of gentle death.

I allow my thoughts to run wild today. Colors and feelings and music, froth at the mouth, eager to be unleashed upon the world. I oblige them; they take control. This is good. I am not myself.

A Gatorade bottle sits alone by the crook of the fading sunlight. She stares at it, sugar and water and food coloring coming to life. Neon signs present their dull glow to an apathetic audience in the odd time of day between fantasy and reality. Iron bells chime in the background, protectors of the balance.

I notice her. She breathes with uncomfortable loudness. Her eyes belie a lack of proper nourishment and sleep. Her hips bear the weight of children too far gone to look back towards the East. Her skin has begun to wrinkle and sag, peeling away in the places where men have violated her. She is young. She is old. She is wise. She is naïve. Her eyes betray her lust. I love her.

The sun, its scarlet tendrils of light gleaming, came early one spring six ‘o’clock. An alarm clock went sailing out the window.

And it was so that I came to call myself lord of the in-between places, ruler over the realm of notebook margins and the one domain in which time, space, emotion, spirit, and mind are somehow both sharpened and dulled. A place in which the shadow of a young boy riding a decrepit bicycle cast by the light of a dying street lamp seems to hold special significance for those taken by that which can help nobody. The world is bathed in musical light, and real sense fades. I live and die here.


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