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take me somewhere nice. |
01.15.2004 |
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tainted like a spiked shaker. and my throat is as sensitive as your ire. your nuclear, the lights, the din of the mildly familiar. you never notice theyre gone until youre alone. time taps his ticks on the park bench until you start. cue silence. you just assumed you would stop. but from that moment on, you would let your horror pull at your loose strings as you came undone.
close your eyes and mirror the movements. pulling the ribbon, unraveling the blanket around your heart. and now youre cold. as cold as youve ever been. and no one is there to tell you to think of warm thoughts. not even me today. dont look at me now. i dont think i can forgive you for that. stained and restrained i will push through your resistance until i cant take it anymore.
its like waking up from a dream that happened, and never being able to forget it again. blueandblackless. nothing can be seen, to anyone but me. when the fire was sweeping, my throat was scratchy. and it has been left that way.
pieces are missing, pieces are broken. pieces were taken, and pieces were torn. theres nothing like hurting. theres nothing like making the first cut in the holiday turkey. theres nothing like adding bruises after the cast has been removed. its clammy and smelly and my left anyways.
with a bloodlust that cannot be sated we watch the flashing lights. lenses flared. pupils dilated. the stars from when we were kids. the twinkling eyes of when we were fifteen and desperate. our arms weren't quite as long, and our reaches reflected it. all centimeters from the blink. and we thought they were in the sky.
the sirens could have toothed their blare, but it wouldnt have changed anything. leaving your expectations hidden in the sole of your shoes, keeps your heart calm as the oil begins to leak. dyeing the ceramic. and not mixing well at all. leave a sign that reads, "i know, but the drain will take care of it. dont cry over stale breaths."
im in a gordian knot looking for my river. because it looks so real. and it kind of makes me cry. and i wished so hard that i wasnt so sad and diseased. that i could at least feel what it was like. and that i didnt want it so much. because you cant have what you want.
and i'm still sitting on that railroad tie wondering why. behind me time taps his ticks, indian-style on the rocks. and the taps go on without me once again. i have been cursing my fear of blue lips ever since.
and to then and now. to those who walk in and out.
i dont mind if you're faking it. make it look real. |
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| 3:46 am |
the kidnap kid said this. |
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| more frequent updates? |
yes, yes, children. we are back! be sure to sign up at the mailing list below to receive notices on phrensick updates.
we will be updating our list shortly to those of you IDIOTS that checked up on the site while we were on an eight-month hiatus! |
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| mailing list! |
sick of visiting phrensick and seein' the same old un-updated site? well, join the mailing list and be alerted to new posts.
go to the contact page... remember to put in your email address... and put "add list" in the body.
god, phrensick's always on the cusp of technology. |
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| POLL |
last night, phrensick polled the current 40-man roster of the MILWAUKEE BREWERS to find out their favorite and least favorite posts.
2003 Milwaukee Brewers favorite post:
XANDER'S "Owimoweh, Owimoweh."
2003 Milwaukee Brewers least favorite post:
SUI GENERIS'S "Popcorn Carts."
(poll was taken of the seven players that returned their questionnaires) |
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| response to POLL |
all i have to say to the milwaukee brewers: sarcasm and base hits... who would've guessed the brew crew couldn't get either?
~sui generis |
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