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bueller. bueller? *writes on board* now onto less interesting things, such as — why and how these things came to pass. where is ferris bueller!

gum pops from offstage.

Posted By Eira On 06.04.2011 @ 6:55 pm

the radio is a beautiful thing. the feeling of deep noises — the thumping bass in u2 songs or a show host with a gravelly voice — make the air vibrate. the radio sometimes crinkles, but that’s okay. the sound surrounds me.

Posted By Eira On 06.03.2011 @ 5:23 pm

Damn, was she good-looking. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, loose tendrils flying this way and that as she made her energetic way around the room, bending people into position. He watched as she got on her mat to perform a particularly tricky move, twisting herself like a pretzel, and reminded himself to come back next week–those yoga pants made her look incredible.

Posted By Eira On 05.22.2011 @ 6:16 pm

My friend was poked in the eye today. We just took a big test and we were talking about the answers. This one girl got really excited because we all got the same answer and went to high five us, and she missed my friends hand in her excitement, instead striking the upper left face region, including the eye. Her eyeliner ran from the reflex tears.

Posted By Eira On 05.06.2011 @ 12:01 pm

My friend was poked in the eye today. We just took a big test and we were talking about the answers. This one girl got really excited because we all got the same answer and went to high five us, and she missed my friends hand in her excitement, instead striking the upper left face region, including the eye. Her mascara ran from the reflex tears.

Posted By Eira On 05.06.2011 @ 11:58 am

Angels. Coming down from the skies and singing. Gold light in shafts upon my upturned face. Harps thrumming and vibrating with my joy. Their feather wings, gilded with sunlight.

I have a prom date.

Posted By Eira On 04.29.2011 @ 5:22 pm

Styrofoam smells stale. It reminds me of the wind in my hair, driving down the lone highways with my parents, wondering if the new house is going to be prettier than the one we were driving away from. My sister crying when her toys got lost during the move. The peanuts spraying out when we opened the boxes with our belongings.

Posted By Eira On 04.22.2011 @ 3:25 pm

I am actually really thirsty right now. Why does Gatorade make you feel parched? I thought it was supposed to hydrate you and all that nonsense. I feel like I’ve just eaten three spoonfuls of peanut butter. There’s a weird aftertaste in my mouth. And I’m pretty sure my mouth is blue.

Posted By Eira On 04.11.2011 @ 7:43 am

She ate the whole damn pizza. We didn’t even dare her to. I don’t know what she was trying to accomplish or even prove, but all her work was paid off in the form of stomach cramps and the feeling of dying – slowly and painfully.

Posted By Eira On 03.20.2011 @ 2:10 pm

I played a lot of sports as a kid. I was the captain for my lacrosse and field hockey teams. I always thought I’d continue to play both of these sports during high school and college.

Boy, was I in for a doozy.

Posted By Eira On 01.18.2011 @ 11:09 am

I stood there and looked at her. She didn’t look back.

She never wore makeup. She looked like a doll. I wanted to lean over the casket and smear that stupid lipstick off of her lips, but even if I was allowed to, I don’t think I’d actually do it. Her lips would probably be very cold.

And she was never cold.

Posted By Eira On 01.12.2011 @ 4:11 pm

She looked at me for a long moment, blotchy patches of purple showing up in her face. Her small, dirty hands balling into fists. Her jaw locked, and I winced, knowing what was coming.

“You said you’d PLAY WITH ME!!”

Posted By Eira On 01.11.2011 @ 4:30 pm

As Howard opened his door, he noticed there were paperclips all over the carpet. “What the…” he muttered, kneeling down and scooping up a few of them. He held them in his hand before letting them fall back to the ground as his eyes travelled across the rest of his office.

Posted By Eira On 12.23.2010 @ 8:18 am

People leave stamps on you. I know people have left stamps on me. But I don’t know where they are, or what they look like. Or how they affect me in day-to-day affairs. I hope the stamps that I leave on other people are good ones. My boyfriend tells me constantly how much I’ve changed him, and when I think about it, that’s all that really matters. Just that one person.

Posted By Eira On 12.14.2010 @ 7:42 am