Furst Drapht
Hello Rachel & Shelly, this is Scott, the Communication Arts major, utilizing yet another of the medium I've nearly mastered, alerting you to another: the telephone! My number being 255-2736. You might call to ask such questions as: "How're things? How do you know where we live?" and the ever popular, "What the hell's your deal, anyway?" These are the stuff I'm made of! Enjoy!
The deed be done. We cannot live by plan alone. You must make the future confront you. No more living by the wayside! Confidence is a temporal virtue. You got it or you don't.
Man, if I ever see them again (without response to the above), holy shit! Run, run, run. It's crazy, this life! Kids' stuff!
But there's one I still need to kill. Knock, knock, bother, bother, antagonism is easily squelched when its source is so small. Duh. Duh. KLUMP! Flump!
Among the dreams,
One tall space tells the truth,
Although, it seems,
His eyes are crowded with vermouth.
"These two," he squeaks,
"These you speak of,
They're easily hidden in weeks,
And must be bathed in love.
Anything less is folly."
And he returns to his pipe,
With Rose's red jolly,
and to all a goodnight.
Run with the heard or a good story on the fifth floor.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
Ah, here's some of that embarrassment I was expecting.
ReplyDelete