vanilla raindrops

email: noreia@planet-save.com.

This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, sometimes Steiermark, Austria, something bored teenagers say when they speak useless words into brick walls of cotton candy, English, German, Noreia,creative writing, fiction, reading, college student, strange, cat power, mogwai, arap strap, dresden dolls, white oleander, the earth, my butt, and other big, round things, welcome to the dollhouse, fuckers.

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by BodyPUNKS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

strange day, yesterday. we drove over a winding road that seemed to last forever. then a fishing shop at a lake on the mountain, and outside sat a big, white dove. "friedenstaube," they said. peace dove. and it looked at me, so intelligent. it looked at me like it knew me. "are you the holy spirit?" i asked it in my mind. we were frozen, staring at each other, and i wanted to lift my arm, because i thought that if i did, the dove would fly over and land on it. i thought this so strongly, but i was too afraid to do it, because if the dove didn't come to me, i would have looked dumb, i would have been disappointed. i trusted the bird, yet i was afraid.

later, in quiet park with a gazebo, i looked up from our table and saw him sitting at a bench. i liked the back of his head, the little "v" of hair at the nape of his neck. i couldn't guess his age -- he could have been eighteen or thirty. walking back from the bathroom, i looked up at him and he was grinning to himself, at some secret thought, and i thought he was smiling at me. i looked away quickly because for an instant he looked like my first boyfriend. and i felt that old, familiar quickening, aware of my heartbeat, my shaky hands. because he used to give me that goofy grin. (i know where he works now, i've heard he's engaged. i feel nothing for him. i'm glad it ended. but when the guy at the park grinned toward me and sped up my heartbeat, i realized that, somewhere inside of me, there will always be that girl. young, naive, innocent spirit abandoned, tasting human dependence -- and then sorrow and solitude -- for the first time.) i watched park-guy until i could no longer see him from the back seat of the taurus. i'd wanted to ask him his name, to ask why he was sitting alone in the park, watching the falling flowers. i wondered if he was sad, if he'd loved and lost. as we drove away, some young hispanic guys on bikes gathered a few feet in front of him, slouching around, laughing as they slapped each other's hands. and i didn't like it. it was like loud talk in a cathedral. the park was so big, and they stood in his space and trampled upon his silence.

walking along the sidewalk, i saw a dead squirrel. he was big and grey, so beautiful, frozen stiff and staring, as ants feasted on his flesh. they laughed and talked as we walked, looking at a garden across the street. i was the only one who noticed.

Posted by: noreia at 13:09 | link | comments (1) |