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8.7.05
stop making that big FACE
and I get out of the shower and my skin is circles of yellow joined with pearly scars of water. Someone has scrawled me with invisible wax like i am their arm in an exam and then doused me in water.
I clean my ears with cotton buds as the packaging speaks to me in first person.
"I am hypoallegenic," they say.
"I am gentle to baby and you."
I have to flip the strings of my hair over and I clean my ears and try to think which shop it is that has "flippy" skirts as I read
WARNING: DO NOT INSERT COTTON BUD INTO EAR CANAL.
I am very quiet and I look at the lilac label. Sometimes it is nice to focus on a shut mouth and to smile silently at your whole life and how quiet it is and how you look to the bathroom cabinet or the door or the lightswitch or other people's bathrooms which you have been in recently.
Other people's bathrooms always seem strange to you and you wonder where things are in them as you gaze into your own eyes trying to imagine what it is like to be a mirror and letting the fact that these are your beautiful bluegrey eyes and not someone else's in someone else's bathroom. And no, you can't imagine what it is like to be this mirror. This mirror in another person's bathroom.
The one thing that is better than writing on a banana with a biro is writing on your monitor with anything. Especially this mousepen from my tablet. Better than those Honda adverts. You feel anything you write is fucking legendary because it doesn't exist.
I am currently thinking about what it must be like to have a bra with three rows of hook-and-eyes, what I'm really like at kissing and about how people see deleted entries maybe for a second before they are deleted, and maybe these become our thoughts and our dreams.
it has taken me twenty six minutes and seventeen seconds to complete this entry.
good day to YOU.
whispered by killa b at 3:11 PM |
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