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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/372958-Urk
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #911202
My first ever Writing.com journal.
#372958 added September 14, 2005 at 10:13pm
Restrictions: None
Urk
twenty-five questions i'd never think to ask myself. or, more accurately, nine questions i'd never think to ask myself, fourteen questions i occasionally think to ask myself, and two questions i ask myself every day.

1. when you look at yourself in the mirror, what's the first thing you look at? my eyebrows
2. how much cash do you have on you? forty-seven cents. c'est la college
3. what's a word that rhymes with "test"? breast
4. favorite plant? jade
5. who is the fourth person on your missed call list on you cell? miya

you know, people seem to receive these things more favorably when i do this, to break up the monotony. aunt sharon came to town today and took me to dinner. we had tapas. that was cool, because i usually overorder and don't eat everything. marcus's picture fell out of my wallet and she grilled me for about forty-five minutes. the tapas were delicious. my headache's still in full effect.

6. what is your main ring tone on your phone? bach's toccata and fugue in d minor
7. what shirt are you wearing? ribbed yellow tank top from kohl's
8. do you "label" yourself? every which way
9. name brand of your shoes currently wearing? estoy barefoot
10. bright or dark room? brightish

aaron, i promise not to dream about your iguanas anymore. you're not the reason for my headache, i'm ninety-three percent sure of it. please disassemble this coconut wall.

11. what do you think about the person who took this survey before you? that she's an inspiration in many ways
12. do you know what an eight-track is? vaguely, i think it only comes in neon?
13. what were you doing at midnight last night? talking to marcus
14. what was your last text message you received on your cell? "gwen screaming? i saw!"
15. do you ever click on pop-ups or banners? all the time, by accident

received today from ernie: another merit badge, this one for appreciation. i'm glad to know you, too. i just hope i've been a consistently positive influence in your life, because i'm not always sure. i know i stir things up, and that you find my advice iffy, at times. thanks for pretending it's worthwhile. here's to the continuance of something great.

16. what's a saying that you say a lot? "wow, it's cold in here"
17. [insert] provide an exact anagram of your full name: "damn, an arson, and in rashness!"
18. last furry thing you touched? a peach
19. how many hours a week do you work? it don't never stop
20. how many rolls of film do you need to get developed? two

that professor's new favorite activity involves taking two prompts, one for setting and the other for atmosphere, and composing a short piece that juxtaposes the two. we have to draw slips of paper out of hats and stuff. today i picked "midnight on the farm" and "sick with love." it's about time marcus showed up. i've gone quite a while without a decent fulcrum.

21. favorite age you have been so far? i'm with mel on this one
22. your worst enemy? myself
23. what is your current desktop picture? a foresty collage i did
24. what was the last thing you said to someone? "what's a saying that i say a lot?"
25. if you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to erase all of your regrets, what would you pick? the regrets, thanks

"The horses are still, and so is everything else. Black sky blankets them all: the house, the pasture, the stables and the sties, but hangs heaviest over the silo, whose cylindrical top the moonlight doesn't reach. The darkness presses down on all sides of the building's shaft, and the tower, shooting up tall from the dim green grass, pushes back, puncturing a silvery brown hole in the cloying sky.

The stars pulse, agitated, blurry as though suspended in a time-lapse photograph that needs refocusing. They are not brilliant dots, but rather bottom-heavy smears, tear-shaped, clustering around the silo, where the moon cannot obscure their weepy light.

The silo stares up at them, its aluminum panels glinting sporadically in the unhappy tar. A light comes on in the house, typical at this hour, and then shuts off just as quickly. The silo flashes momentarily in its direction, then returns its attentions to the warm felt sky."

© Copyright 2005 mood indigo (UN: aquatoni85 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/372958-Urk