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Ultraviolet

Sunday, March 30, 2008


Dear Charlie,

I am writing this from a strange place. The scenery looks familiar but there is something different hiding behind the trees, or is it in the tall grass? The faint scratching and almost muted collisions of dangling vinyl pieces creep and curl around my ears. A redundant tic-toc from a clock could barely manipulate my lungs the way this stretched silence and seemingly random sound keeps me in suspense.

I dreamt of you last night. You were preoccupied. Like the cook of the kitchen, you had to attend to people around you and their demands. The girls were screaming outside. The crowds were breaking up and weakened by fermentation. Wearied from picking up doll parts scattered across the land, I stood in the living room across from you. Turning to me, standing as straight as you could, with a face that I had never seen before, you asked me to stay, knowing that I was looking for the door.

The movement was fast, then slow. You were taking care of business, while I was taking care of the sick. The movement was slow and fast. You were gone. The chatter was happy then loud and disturbing. My confusion ended with her scream, the girl with the permanent tear. I stoped in front of the glass entrance as she swung towards me from one high heel to a bare foot. Her make-up had dramatised her young face. Holding a shoe in her left hand she hit and hugged the sign-covered wall of the entrance. I knew why.

I ran passed her to the front of the building and through the parked cars only to see you sitting in the backseat of a truck being thrown back by the quick departure, your spine barely holding you up. That was the last time I saw you. The children were in a hurry. The truck drove off, making a sharp right turn into a traffic heavy street and then disappearing down the blind drop of the hill. I knew what was to come next, before the absence of screeching tires and the collision of flightless metal machines. I knew no end. I saw nothing but wasn’t blind. I pulled myself out of the scene before any image could be set in stone.

I wasn’t alone standing in that parking lot; your friend was there too. We miss you.

Labels:

posted by Primessa Espiritu
1:21 pm



Bath time

Saturday, March 29, 2008


posted by Primessa Espiritu
7:17 pm



Ticket to ride

Wednesday, March 26, 2008


>>>> i saw the weirdest proposed bill the other day...
>>>>
>>>> they're offering, as an alternative to prison for drug offenders, the
>>>> opportunity to join the military.
>>>>
>>>> so, let's say you get caught with cocaine or pot, and they're gonna
>>>> give you twenty years in prison for it, you can just check the little
>>>> box that says "join the military instead?" and they let you do it.
>>>>
>>>> scary.
>>>>
>>>> that's exactly what the country needs to make us look more
>>>> responsible in the eyes of other nations and cultures. an army full of
>>>> drug dealers.
>>>>
>>>> i can't see the harm in that.... i mean... let's give 'em some guns
>>>> and send 'em to iraq.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
9:44 pm



Chain drive

Sunday, March 23, 2008


I sometimes wish I had some kind of belief system that permits me to engage in political discussions. There is no way for me to trust or have faith in any political speaker. My lifetime has been populated by puppets dancing where true passion should stand. I have great trouble distinguishing soap operas from political debates because I believe that both stages are set up by the same people.

Sometimes I believe that our governments are the way they are because we, the people, have left it to crumble to it's present state.

I sometimes believe that governments must be updated or uninstalled like software, as it enables the machinery of a reign.

Sometimes I just don't care about politics.

posted by Primessa Espiritu
8:15 pm



The man who told everything

Saturday, March 22, 2008


Looks like the rod is now a wave.

posted by Primessa Espiritu
10:06 pm



there's a nice knock-down argument

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


Sometimes, you just can't tell what two and two make up.

All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Signs should be easy to understand.
WYSISYG?

Although accidents happen every minute
a sure way to find debris is to follow sirens.



When I stepped into the shower, all my thoughts slowed down.
It's a great pre-bed ritual.
I stopped analyzing the past and let the water do the rest.
Then looking down I saw something odd.
A letter.

red
rain
ritual

The letter had somehow moved from the craft table to the bathtub.
How?
Why?
Stop.

It's a light subject, compared to others...


[a picture of the letter]



Sometimes, you just can't tell what one and one make up.

'In spring, when woods are getting green,
I'll try and tell you what I mean.'

Some signs are rather left unsaid.
.

[a picture of something else]




No. Not really.

Labels:

posted by Primessa Espiritu
9:40 pm



Heavy snow

Tuesday, March 18, 2008


It is the landlords responsibility to remove the heavy snow (wet snow, ice) from the roof.

Write to your landlord and ask him to remove it if you are concerned. Keep a copy of the dated letter.

Labels:

posted by Primessa Espiritu
7:35 am



A Public Apology

Thursday, March 13, 2008


I would like to apologize to my family, friends and potential business partners for my f*book invitations from 2007.

I now realize the horror that is f*book (since I have been trying to close my account for 2 months) and would like to apologize for the awkwardness application that was added between us.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
8:03 pm



Thirst in fog

Monday, March 10, 2008


I was telling mama
how I took nothing
how he was strong.

No need to save me.
No need to be saved.

Mama just smiled
while telling me
Don't think
there are many
of them fuckers around.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
9:14 pm



...the bad and the ugly

Saturday, March 08, 2008


Do not divide genius from madness and do not divide freedom from being.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
10:50 pm



Mayday

Sunday, March 02, 2008


Y: Why is your calendar already in May?

X: I haven’t turned the page since last year.

Y: ?

X: I love the picture.

Y: What do the other pictures look like?

X: I don’t know. I haven’t looked further.

Y: This says May 2008.

X: What?

Y: This is May 2008.

X: I don’t know how that happened.

posted by Primessa Espiritu
2:09 pm



Listen to

Wiretap: Listen to the show by clicking Montreal on the radio map.

This Week's Episode: Soul Mate
Kidnapping and hair haiku.

Broadcast times:
Sundays at 1 pm (1:30 NT, 4 pm Pacific) and Wednesdays at 11:30 pm (12 am NT) on CBC Radio One.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
1:07 pm



Listening to

Saturday, March 01, 2008


posted by Primessa Espiritu
11:51 am



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