Staged. The whole thing had been staged. He couldn’t believe it, but at the same time, anything involving a grapefruit, a stagecoach, an exotic dancer, three monkeys and a cat defied the laws of probability to have occurred on its own. Only one question remained: why three monkeys? And how? And what did the cat have to do with it?
It was all staged with precision. Down to every last exact moment. The pull of the trigger. The slam of the door. The look in his eyes. It looked so real from the perspective of Velma, an innocent bystander. Yet the blame fell as perfectly as the body, with a splat and pointing towards Velma.
The act was entirely staged. From the placement of the gun to the slam of the door. It looked so real from Velma’s perspective. The innocent girl merely watching, yet the blame fell as perfectly as the victim. With a splat and all over Velma’s face.
Julia Carrigan
I was staged in a car accident, the director told me to act like I was dead. I laid down on the ground next to the cardboard cut-out and pretended to be dead. Slowly I started to feel like I truly was dying, i lost my breath as everything went black.
Kirsten
The kiss doesn’t mean anything, not really.
Jesse’s got his hands tangled in Gabriel’s curls, and Gabriel knows it’s all for show, the way Jesse knocks his beanie to the floor, the way Jesse’s tongue slides into his mouth, the way he pressed against him. Their pursuers run by, mistaking them for a random couple making out in the dark, and Gabriel aches.
Jesse draws back after a moment. “Shit,” he whispers. Gabriel agrees. “That was close.”
Gabriel tries not to think about the lingering taste of tobacco on Jesse’s mouth. “Yeah,” he mumbles, avoiding Jesse’s gaze. “Close.”
That was when I realized that it was all staged. I had been lied to my whole life. People had been using me, but telling me that they didn’t believe anything I was saying. My prophetic dreams had been true, but people had just been using my dreams.
There was a tableau that had been staged. The house was having that lived-in look but you could tell that a professional had been there before hand and it was all staged. The stagecoach was held up. They staged a robbery. That was for real. But don’t forget that time we staged our own death.
I was drinking with a friend. We were talking about how life was changing when he punched me and broke my nose. My nose was bleeding for about 20 minutes and he was laughing for about 10 of those minutes. People said it had been staged as a way of getting attention and sympathy. They both denied any wrong doing.
Steve O
Life staged. Trapped in a snowglobe. The stars are watching me as much as I watch them. I notice them notice me notice them. Who am I and is this real? Some days I am fully engaged in the act. Other days I am an uncertain feather floating from place to place.
Kirsten Logerquist
There are activities in my day-to-day life
that run on repeat
that run on routine
that can be predicted and performed with
the expected results and
this isn’t bad
this is certainty
She was not lost but looking; lost but looking; and found herself on stages of white tulips spreading across oceans of sound and time and on and on she went until the soles of her shoes fell apart.
Bookishly
She crossed stage left and exited, exhaling deeply once she was in the wings. The scene onstage continued without a hitch. She watched, reciting along with it. She knew this whole show by heart, right, she had written it. But it was such a different experience being onstage during the show.
The set is perfect.
I have sanded these chairs.
Painted those walls.
I have even
Mopped the floor
Buffed the scuffs
My eyes trailing them
Down,
Down,
While the scuffers
Haven’t the energy
To look down on me.
If there is a crack
In the back
Of the set frame,
Ah,
Suddenly,
I have a name.
I wanted to believe that it was real. That it was happening. That the human race was standing on the precipice of something extraordinary. I didn’t want it to be faked or staged. And yet, there I was, staring at the multiple television screens suspended above my head. Above the population’s head. People all milling about like cattle as the propaganda entered through our ears and noses and came out from our mouths in artificial jubilation.
Belinda Roddie
I was staged
born and raised by parents who’s only claim on my being was my birth. And it was because of that claim they named me. They threw me into the world, knowing who I would become who I would act as. Just another one of the people they believed I would be. I am not that. I am a person.
aaron kim
There are activities in my day-to-day life
that run on repeat
that run on routine
that can be predicted and performed with
the expected results and
this isn’t bad
this is certainty
Did you see how the stage was set for us?
Like flowing water, you came from the hands of the moon;
enter: stage right, I arrive at the shore.
You come over me, with an ebb and a flow
the wolf whistles to the sky,
and I reach for you.
He placed the items carefully, trying his best to put it in the same order he had found them. Everything had to be perfect, or no one would believe him. Blood splattered the walls and he laid the dummy on the floor, sighing and taking one last look at the pics he would never see again, sighing longingly at the people he loved, the reason why he was doing this.
‘The whole thing was staged’
Staged. The whole thing had been staged. He couldn’t believe it, but at the same time, anything involving a grapefruit, a stagecoach, an exotic dancer, three monkeys and a cat defied the laws of probability to have occurred on its own. Only one question remained: why three monkeys? And how? And what did the cat have to do with it?
It was all staged with precision. Down to every last exact moment. The pull of the trigger. The slam of the door. The look in his eyes. It looked so real from the perspective of Velma, an innocent bystander. Yet the blame fell as perfectly as the body, with a splat and pointing towards Velma.
The act was entirely staged. From the placement of the gun to the slam of the door. It looked so real from Velma’s perspective. The innocent girl merely watching, yet the blame fell as perfectly as the victim. With a splat and all over Velma’s face.
I was staged in a car accident, the director told me to act like I was dead. I laid down on the ground next to the cardboard cut-out and pretended to be dead. Slowly I started to feel like I truly was dying, i lost my breath as everything went black.
The kiss doesn’t mean anything, not really.
Jesse’s got his hands tangled in Gabriel’s curls, and Gabriel knows it’s all for show, the way Jesse knocks his beanie to the floor, the way Jesse’s tongue slides into his mouth, the way he pressed against him. Their pursuers run by, mistaking them for a random couple making out in the dark, and Gabriel aches.
Jesse draws back after a moment. “Shit,” he whispers. Gabriel agrees. “That was close.”
Gabriel tries not to think about the lingering taste of tobacco on Jesse’s mouth. “Yeah,” he mumbles, avoiding Jesse’s gaze. “Close.”
That was when I realized that it was all staged. I had been lied to my whole life. People had been using me, but telling me that they didn’t believe anything I was saying. My prophetic dreams had been true, but people had just been using my dreams.
There was a tableau that had been staged. The house was having that lived-in look but you could tell that a professional had been there before hand and it was all staged. The stagecoach was held up. They staged a robbery. That was for real. But don’t forget that time we staged our own death.
I was drinking with a friend. We were talking about how life was changing when he punched me and broke my nose. My nose was bleeding for about 20 minutes and he was laughing for about 10 of those minutes. People said it had been staged as a way of getting attention and sympathy. They both denied any wrong doing.
Life staged. Trapped in a snowglobe. The stars are watching me as much as I watch them. I notice them notice me notice them. Who am I and is this real? Some days I am fully engaged in the act. Other days I am an uncertain feather floating from place to place.
There are activities in my day-to-day life
that run on repeat
that run on routine
that can be predicted and performed with
the expected results and
this isn’t bad
this is certainty
She was not lost but looking; lost but looking; and found herself on stages of white tulips spreading across oceans of sound and time and on and on she went until the soles of her shoes fell apart.
She crossed stage left and exited, exhaling deeply once she was in the wings. The scene onstage continued without a hitch. She watched, reciting along with it. She knew this whole show by heart, right, she had written it. But it was such a different experience being onstage during the show.
The set is perfect.
I have sanded these chairs.
Painted those walls.
I have even
Mopped the floor
Buffed the scuffs
My eyes trailing them
Down,
Down,
While the scuffers
Haven’t the energy
To look down on me.
If there is a crack
In the back
Of the set frame,
Ah,
Suddenly,
I have a name.
jkjkkj
I wanted to believe that it was real. That it was happening. That the human race was standing on the precipice of something extraordinary. I didn’t want it to be faked or staged. And yet, there I was, staring at the multiple television screens suspended above my head. Above the population’s head. People all milling about like cattle as the propaganda entered through our ears and noses and came out from our mouths in artificial jubilation.
I was staged
born and raised by parents who’s only claim on my being was my birth. And it was because of that claim they named me. They threw me into the world, knowing who I would become who I would act as. Just another one of the people they believed I would be. I am not that. I am a person.
There are activities in my day-to-day life
that run on repeat
that run on routine
that can be predicted and performed with
the expected results and
this isn’t bad
this is certainty
Did you see how the stage was set for us?
Like flowing water, you came from the hands of the moon;
enter: stage right, I arrive at the shore.
You come over me, with an ebb and a flow
the wolf whistles to the sky,
and I reach for you.
He placed the items carefully, trying his best to put it in the same order he had found them. Everything had to be perfect, or no one would believe him. Blood splattered the walls and he laid the dummy on the floor, sighing and taking one last look at the pics he would never see again, sighing longingly at the people he loved, the reason why he was doing this.