2009
10.30

When I finish writing my will, I’m going to begin on another secret will. In this one, I will outline to my best friend (who will know who they are) exactly where all my porn is, and anything that I need them to dispose of immediately. I will also tell them every deep secret and things that need to covering up before the shock of my death has worn off. That way, they will have ample time to lie about or fix anything I did wrong before anyone gets mad at me. Most importantly however, they will wipe my browser history and delete my porn, or keep it. And don’t forget about the magazines in the closet. No, I don’t use them. I just have found it exceedingly inconvenient to try to sneak them into the garbage for the past 10 years.

I think this should be the standard for best friends in the event of someone’s death, and will be a great honor. I promise now and forever, not to judge a dead friend for any weird fetish they had, or any creepy self-taken nude pictures left behind.

In conclusion, if I name you in my secret will at any point, you will be held responsible and accountable for the affairs of my estate to be taken care of. Be honored. And don’t forget the magazines.

2009
10.30

Snow is melting
What happened yesterday rises upwards
Up, up, up, up, and gone
Those words had not quite sunk in yet
And now they dissipate in Fall breeze
The sky is crying now
Dropping out what it has absorbed
Unable to handle what was said last night
Just like us.

2009
10.27

For my broken heart.

I contend you are not my soul.

That might not be true

But the truth is mine to create.

You will no longer own me.

You will no longer

Occupy my thoughts.

My life is mine, not yours.

I wish you nothing but

The best.

May all your endeavors

Be blessed.

Just not by me.

You were cruel

And heartless.

And overrated.


© Andrea Stanton, 2009
[others]
2009
10.27

I thought of you
And how you appreciate this beauty the same as I do
As I walked along the beach
And remembered how you slipped just out of reach
I laid upon the sand
And ran grains through my fingers as you fucked another man.


© Shannon Peil, 2009
[others]
2009
10.26

A friend of mine once fell under a particularly nasty spell of reality and asked, “WHO THE FUCK DO WE THINK WE ARE?”

While not a question we ask regularly, it is a slightly scary but very valid one. Here follows my attempt to answer it as succinctly as possible.

We are those who still believe the American dream is to be productive and proud, in all aspects of life. We want to look behind us and see a trail of invention and construction. We want to look down the stairs we have just climbed and be able to say gleefully, “only I have done this”.

We are those who want to understand and improve ourselves. We know that there is a great a mystery as any inside of our own perceptions and experiences, and that the path to discovery is through experimentation. We are our own scientist, and our own experiment; our own control and our own variable. We are sometimes startled at the sudden appearance of challenge, but always rush towards it with the sword of curiousity held overhead. We know that we can never be perfection, but we know there lay grains of happiness within the struggle.

We are those who want to understand, and improve the world. It unfolds and reveals its secrets slowly, as we grow alongside. We see the beauty in all there is, even though it contains boundless pain and death within. We wish to impart our energy to bring light and warmth into this world. We don’t have to be seen from space to make a worthwhile difference.

We are curious. We do not accept authority blindly. We eye facts, boasts, arguments, theories and commands with skepticism. For some of us, the Truth is the closest thing we associate with the divine, and it is a thing to be revered. We are aware we can never know it all, but that won’t stop us from trying.

We are those who believe in personal dignity and respect for all things and creatures. Sometimes, these seem so self-evident to us that we forget that others don’t always operate this way. We give these courtesies to others without even thinking, and are often irked when we fail to receive the same in return. But, ultimately, we are those who will forgive, because we refuse to have our flame sputter out because of a few misguided souls. But we try not to forget, because we are just as delicate as we are forcible.

We are those who love mischievous spontaneity, and carnivals of mirth. Every day we peel back the corners of reality to see bits of the joke underneath. We know that to harvest the most out of our lives, we must vigorously apply our heart and soul. But still we revel in the little celebrations of slapstick, of tragedy, of irony, the absurd, tickling and the good old fashioned belly laugh.

And the sad truth of the matter is…. we are very few.


© Peter Hauschulz, 2009
[others]