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on the road
sup mah niggahs?
Created on 2004-06-21 00:28:44 (#3557330), last updated 2004-12-24
5 comments received, 7 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
9 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 1 Userpic
Basic Info| Name: | Heather Danyel |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 10-05 |
| Location: | Tempe, Arizona, United States |
Bio The problem with the cold is I like seeing my breath hanging on the air, not that it's a problem, really. I just like to admire the particles of water freeze and suspend there right in front of me. It's like the invisible man being covered in dust; you get to see him for a moment. The invisibility of my breath is lost in the winter months, it's pretty, really is.
So I sit outside as long as the cold will let me, rounding my mouth into a circle and letting out the hottest breath I can. I watch it puff up and turn white then disperse into nothing, thin air. I'm sure I look crazy, I know I look crazy, but it's just small things like that that REALLY get me going (and I love to get going).
I was outside Miller's house doing this when he came out before I rang the bell. He thought I looked like an ass, I really did. I tried to explain but some, well most, people just don't get crazy stuff like that. I don't blame him, even when I explain it to my self it sounds bizarre. I asked him to get his scarf on and come for a walk with me, he groaned and suggested we catch a movie in his living room instead. He hates the cold, I mean hates it. But I can talk him into anything.
We went down an alleyway by the old irrigation ditch and left our footprints in the untouched snow. Flakes kept swirling and catching on my eyelashes, hair, scarf, and hat and Miller's too. He's a good deal taller than I, and his eyes so dark, like oil or obsidian. We went farther, towards the woods, not saying anything and for the first time I felt self-conscious about looking at him. I was admiring his features (they were beautiful) for the first time. It was as though I didn't want him to catch me, but he did and I caught his pensive glances on me. Then they turned away swiftly to the woods in front of us.
The tension was all around, a storm was coming and there was a tingling in the air. I wanted to speak but my words left me and my mouth turned so dry. I wanted to scrutinize Miller's face but I felt sort of ashamed for my intentions were not plutonic. I wanted him to kiss me but he was frozen as the water in the ditch next to us. When we got to the edge of the wood, I looked up at him and smiled, he cleared his throat and asked where we ought to go and I looked down at my boots. I lifted my eyes back up and opened my mouth to say a word but all that came out was beautiful white air that dispersed into a kiss.
So I sit outside as long as the cold will let me, rounding my mouth into a circle and letting out the hottest breath I can. I watch it puff up and turn white then disperse into nothing, thin air. I'm sure I look crazy, I know I look crazy, but it's just small things like that that REALLY get me going (and I love to get going).
I was outside Miller's house doing this when he came out before I rang the bell. He thought I looked like an ass, I really did. I tried to explain but some, well most, people just don't get crazy stuff like that. I don't blame him, even when I explain it to my self it sounds bizarre. I asked him to get his scarf on and come for a walk with me, he groaned and suggested we catch a movie in his living room instead. He hates the cold, I mean hates it. But I can talk him into anything.
We went down an alleyway by the old irrigation ditch and left our footprints in the untouched snow. Flakes kept swirling and catching on my eyelashes, hair, scarf, and hat and Miller's too. He's a good deal taller than I, and his eyes so dark, like oil or obsidian. We went farther, towards the woods, not saying anything and for the first time I felt self-conscious about looking at him. I was admiring his features (they were beautiful) for the first time. It was as though I didn't want him to catch me, but he did and I caught his pensive glances on me. Then they turned away swiftly to the woods in front of us.
The tension was all around, a storm was coming and there was a tingling in the air. I wanted to speak but my words left me and my mouth turned so dry. I wanted to scrutinize Miller's face but I felt sort of ashamed for my intentions were not plutonic. I wanted him to kiss me but he was frozen as the water in the ditch next to us. When we got to the edge of the wood, I looked up at him and smiled, he cleared his throat and asked where we ought to go and I looked down at my boots. I lifted my eyes back up and opened my mouth to say a word but all that came out was beautiful white air that dispersed into a kiss.
ConnectInterests (67):
albert camus, andy warhol, beck, belle and sebastian, black heart procession, blacklicious, blondie, boobies, boobs, c.s. lewis, carla bruni, cat stevens, charles mingus, cibo mato, comic books, dirty dozen brass band, driving, drugs, elliot smith, emily dickenson, eyelashes, fred alan wolfe, french, gift of the gab, good gravy, henry david thoreau, holy moses, huzzah, icicles, jazz, joy division, krs one, lip gloss, mangos, miles davis, modest mouse, murder, music, nail polish, naked lunch, neautral milk hotel, nipples, on the road, penis, poop, porn, radiohead, reading, ribbons, road trips, saul williams, shoes, sonic youth, starlight mints, stereolab, sun city girls, the coup, the cure, the dietrichs, the helio sequence, the smiths, tities, traveling, ugly casanova, walt whitman, water, yo la tengo
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