roycutler
I refilled my cartridge and locked and loaded by gun. Cartridge is not a particularly inspiring words as it evokes only sorts of mechanical things, a cartridge with whch you can replace emotions or something maybe.
Hidden from view, her head swaddled in a cloak bought from a used clothing store, she held out her hand, dirty with broken nails and several cuts. She thrust it at me repeatedly.
Where to start? What to eliminate? What to accentuate? It's important to pull yourself out of this stasis, the overwhelming sensation of being caught in a web, trapped in the mud, you need to prioritize, straighten yourself out.
Take my advice. Don't worry about the future, don't be ruled by your fears or your wild imaginings, they will always be worse than what will actually happen, It will be a mix of the good and bad, just take your time.
I will go with you, wherever you want to go, without questions, without looking back, I'll done my wings and fly to the sun and risk it all, if you would only keep me in your eyes, wash me with your smile, urge me on with your voice, I'd do it gladly.
Protection, that's what I need, protection, something to fend off the arrows and grappling hands as they drag to pull you down, preferably made of teflon so they slip off, some non-stick surface to allow protection from rain
I should make it clear just what I am saying but that is illusive. It is perhaps illusory as well, the thought that it can all be summarized so neatly, brought to a finely wrought point, cleany argued and summarized.
I take it in my hand. I hold it up close. I hold it far away. I put it in my pocket. I carry it around for several days. I pull it back out. It has pocket lint on it but it is no less compelling, no less mesmerizing.
There it was, the possibility, standing in front, welcoming and I had to decide if I could jump in, if I could muster the courage to go through that door to whatever waited beyond. It was shimmering, as if in anticipation of my entrace, and threatening to disappear.
Taking that song and working it, applying 30 years of musical knowledge, but all of this done without thinking too hard about it, just tweaking unconsciously to match up with a hard-won, long-considered aesthetic. That's craftsmanship.
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writing since 2011 · 50 entries · 49 days shown up
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the words Roy reaches for
undonehardshorelessheadbullycornersdonerelatefacerefusingtiedwashpatternshandincense