icatora
walls are fourth and none. there are walls in houses and minds that i hate and love. i appreciate insulation, but loathe boundaries and disgust and repressed memories. there are things in walls that i want to know about and things that are shown through windows that i want to hear and smell. there are also things that are too vivid for me to ever bear witness to, but I think I will still peek in.
lillies are beautiful flowers. as far as i know there are many kinds of lillies, but in plural i am always reminded of the flowers. if, however, in singular form. the word "lily" only reminds me of video games and harvest moon since this is what i will always name my cow the very first time i buy one. i love the simplicity and delicacy of the plural, but relish in the nostalgia of the cow.
oil drips and seeps and slicks along things. its enemy seems to be water, in large scale and in small. on the bread table, it seeks to please the taste buds with vinegar emulsifying (if i remember that word correctly, anyhow). there are so many oils from seeds and plants, there are oils from our pores. oil is life, and olives, and cooking.
all i can think of right now with this word is the phrase "junk in trunk" which is both demeaning, hilarious, and perfect I guess to describe the reproductive and ridiculous organs that comprise the trunk of a girl. i'm glad i'm not a dude, always observing the moving trunks about the world. i think that would get rather boring, when the real treasured trunk is that of the mind and all that is above the belted trunk below.
if i was in such a hurry that i couldn't write this- i wouldn't write this. but here i am in no hurry on a bed in pajamas and in a home that i knew as a child. one of the few places i probably feel the least hurry in life. east coast is all hurry anyway. hurry, neurotic people, and people who get things done. west coast is all about food, family, and non-hurrying relaxing.
loud and clapping or roaring. i can't tell whether its a lion or lots of applause sometimes, its all distance and how afraid i am of the night. some nights its welcome, some nights a "dark and stormy night" is something i dread because i'm alone. sharing thunder is the best thing because everyone can shiver in harmony as the applause rains upon everyone below.
there is a place and a body that is a sanctuary. there is peace and harmony there. but i suppose there are bad temples, forgotten temples, lonely temples. of course, i mustn't forget the temple on my forehead, because it houses and begs worship of perhaps the most important temple of all, my brain and mind.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 7 days shown up
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hurrytrunktempleswordwallsharmonytemplehousesmindapplausenightnightswritecoastoiloils