*
////
C:
You’ve reached a new low, reading about the One Direction guy and Rod Stewart’s daughter. Do you really need to know about their relationship?
Me: Yes.
#unashamed #celebritygossip #harrystyles #kimberlystewart #cougs
Category Archives: jk
Sorry I’ve been MIA. Just figuring some shit out.
Also, this is relevant.
In the marble hallway of the hotel, the trade winds blow in, stirring the large, elephantine leaves of potted plants, circling the bamboo fans in a lazy arc. A woman with the palest blue eyes. She looks at you for a second and then looks away. If you look to your left, there are shuttered doors, folded back to reveal a round, triumphant balcony and beyond that frame, the face of the blue sea, flat with small crests of white. Boats bob. A mountain with perched white houses in patches of green. There are no grids here. Just lush randomness, just a splay of human imprint here and there, like a footprint. On a flatscreen, framed by the view of the ocean, a newscast, a helicopter shot of a house, wooden splinters littering the lawn and the aerial shot moving out so that you could see the whole city, just flattened, it looks like, by a foot. Is this a movie? No, news of wind funnels, swirling across the flat plains of the midwest. Your head tilts, the wind moves hot against your legs and you’re distracted by the calm. A woman’s voice, a bit hysterical speaks fast. There, a crying face, crumpled like paper. But it seems unreal. Only the blue past the screen seems real, the stillness, the slight, undulating motion of the boats in water, a man yawning as he puts his legs up on a sofa, the faint laughter from the hotel bar, the clink of spoons.
-jeanie k.
*
Is there such thing as being a bruised romantic? Because I think I am one.
#sundayconfessions
*
Last night I dreamt that I rode a glass escalator up into a forest of trees. The trees were high and the escalator rode up to what seemed to no end. It ran almost vertical. From a far vantage point I could see how high the trees were, how thick the forest, how green it all seemed. And there I was, so afraid.
I turned around and there you stood and looked me right in the eyes and said, “Keep going.”
#dreams
*
When I think about the poem I just posted, it is so perfect, that I want to take it apart, like a string of white pearls or a row of teeth. There is something so bittersweet about a worker bee that is fulfilled and dying.
It roams into the forest where it finds its final home, and there is a low hum, which is the hum of work or thriving (or dying).
And then that final stanza:
Take, for all that is good, for all that is gone,
That it may lie rough and real against your collarbone,
This string of bees, that once turned honey into sun.
Stay for a moment with the word sun, and the word gone, and the word collarbone.
Don’t you think it’s perfect? Or am I just high on cold medicine or what?
time to go to bed.
haha.
x.
*
There’s a blizzard coming, which means that I will look like Sasquatch tomorrow. I have a show to cover at Lincoln Center(did you hear? It’s NYFW) and I’m dreading the drifts of snow and jklfjlakjakj wind tunnels.
Plus, I think I’ve come down with something. I seem to have a slight malaise of some sort. My head is congested, I’m sleepy and I see everything in this weird soft focus that is most definitely cold or flu fog.
One day.
