Monthly Archives: June 2012

Timed

freefall is a section in weight of words for masturbatory, practice writing, random quotes and pieces of poetry. similar to a tattoo where an artist sketches an outline first before the very illustration, freefall is an outline of either beautiful or monstrous sets of words to come.

(It’s been a long time.  The last time I wrote a Freefall entry was in 2011. How jarring time flies.)

The time it took for me to walk from my spot to your spot took years and one day.

The time it took for you to walk from our spot to your spot was three hours.

The time it took for me to walk from my spot to a soiled spot on the floor was five minutes.

The time it took for me to walk away took months and an hour.

The time it took for me to wallow was zero.

The time it took for you to wallow was zero and two days.

Conjure the distance in figures then walk toward me no more.

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my apple a day

It wasn’t the lack of songs that I hated but the silence.

I felt this sensation when Dolores O’Riordan took a break; also when Fiona Apple took a hiatus, I felt I was an intimate friend that she wounded for falling back away from the world and not telling me about it.

But now she’s back — Fiona Apple with her album entitled The Idler Wheel is wiser than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords will serve you more than Ropes will ever do.

She gives SPIN a chance to interview her, and I am struck again by her words: “I feel like I’m 100 years old. I can’t tell you what I did today. I can’t tell you what I did for seven years. I can’t tell you. It happens so seamlessly — I’m just floating along and seven years go by.”

I do think shamelessly that we are kindred spirits down to the fire behind her large eyes and the sadness lining her large lips.

“It doesn’t look like it’s doing anything, but I feel like it’s connected to everything,” (Photo from SPIN interview)

She’s back. Remove the red carpet; she chooses to walk barefoot on stone pathways.

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