excavation

[mazzie]

i moved some stuff in my apartment around today and unearthed an old, small, spiral-bound notebook.

these are the best finds of all. i see my own scrawl in different pens and it's like looking at pictures i forgot i took. names with phone numbers that are no no longer familiar, non-sensical notes with long-extinct shorthand, but occasionally something funny enough to be precious, or precious enough to be funny.

this made me laugh out loud:

in conjunction with fears
we will not be going out today.

sometimes there's something that almost sounds like wisdom, like:

trying to protect your territory
is fraught with misery.

or something that brings back a poignant memory:

where were you, sisters, when i was marching for your lives?

and, once in a while, something almost like prose:

no such luck is mine today
hair dull, fingers thick,
eyes gray
muscles full of can't

and that's just the first page.

Comments

[blueinva.livejournal.com]

Words, beautiful words seep out of you like juice from a sweet ripe grape.

[boliviafang.livejournal.com]

Exquisite. That's a life lived. It makes sense. It makes mine make more sense. It reminds me of beauty and the things we wished we were; the things we became; and the incredible precious soul that runs so briefly through these mortal coils.


...whoa! I guess you inspire me, too! Not that I didn't know that already.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

"muscles full of can't." That's a really good line. It deservres to be salvaged.

[sodapopthrill.livejournal.com]

uhm ... so, like, am i allowed to steal this stuff?