practice clip. rusty practice clip.
one time, we walked next to the river, just before the summer heat came. i fell in a sinkhole and we found a secret dock. we decided, in the trees, to feel like huck finn. clothes came off, most of them, and into the river we went. and the birds were there. and the strange sounding insects too. and we stood against the current in the spring river - we were brave, swimming in the unknown water. your feet hated the feel of the unknown beneath us - fought it hard when you had to pull a fish hook out of my foot and pretend it was nothing even though i could see the ‘it’s a four pronged monster hook’ look in your eye. hid in the grass on the river bank when we saw the funeral procession scattering ashes and rose petals into the water, to be carried away. hid and watched in silence. when it was safe and the sun had baked us too much in our new secret place, we were back in the water. this time, as the current pushed against us, we just stood looking at one another, knowing we were swimming in something immeasurable. we were swimming in the remembrance and reverence of a life lived. perhaps the ashes of someone who had a whole story to tell, now with the river. i still have my rose petals, the ones that hit my face and stuck to your body, dried as they are, on my mantle. love you so. and that dock. and that sun. and our secret place with not many words.
By @codos_vo | Columbia, South Carolina
I’ll clean the spaces between the loft posts just the same as I always did, minus the excessive cat hair. I’ll vacuum and make sure the washrooms are shiny and perfect, as they should be in a building of this caliber. I’ll even wipe down the tops of the lights, where the dust sticks because of meals cooked. And I will look out of the wall of windows and know that there was a before and an after and in my ‘after’ I am in this building, cleaning for you, without the smell of cat piss stinging my nose or the cat following me around wanting snuggles. There was a then. There is a now. I will clean in the now and remember the ‘then’ when I’m on my knees making sure there is no dust behind your toilet. And I will know the difference, even if it is just the slight change in the midday light that reminds me. I will clean with a different heart. I’ll bet it will be a better clean than it was before. And then I will leave, not waiting for anyone to come home and praise me with take out in their fucking hands to eat while we watch a film in our clean, soon to be dirty because of the cat hair, house. Home. I will clean my home as a house now. Paradigm, motherfuckers! Strangest shift.
Jem Targal - Luckey Guy.
always introduced to the best music from this dildos blog. check it out.
I just shouted in my house (kind of like a terrified scream - but not high pitched). Alone. For you. wishing-clouds-were-fluffy.