The word of the day is brandish. 1. trans. To flourish, wave about (a sword, spear, dart, club, or other manual weapon) by way of threat or display, or in preparation for action.
When I say “MoM” I mean it like the tattoo means it. Round, palindromic, and red. It’s completely a joke and completely a scar.
I should use it in a sentence, commit it to memory or something else. But I think– in order to brandish you first have to wear and wield, find and clench in fist.
I’m groping around my apartment to find some manual weapon, spear, or dart. I can only come up with a 5oz vermillion mug and four wooden elephants, two seed beans, and my boots. Can any of those be brandished? Or just shaken hard?
How much of this will I be able to fit into my suitcase when I go?
What is this retrograde that I am listening only to Chopin and The Books?
I’m sorry. I’m returning after a week with mostly questions for you.
This time I can only envision moving out in a different way. A titling back of my head into a tub of milky water, lips finally pink, and hot white water turning my hair brown. There is no coming out or coming through it. Only the infinite tilting back.
My classmates are all graduating to pursue trade programs. Massage therapy!
I have nothing else for you besides this proof of life. note from Captor/Captured to friends of family via podCast. I’m gathering the family funds, will send them promptly to myself, will let myself go if the police are not involved. Especially Horatio.
In the meantime here is who I’m reading. Voila! Distraction. The NewBloggers. Also, apparently, transguy celebration zone?
lol-aj> and this one, especially, about Diablo Cody and sex work
charmed > especially by his ultra-geeky, ultra-blogger self-description but put off by my distance from cookies and airspace dedicated to Candidates