PRESCRIPT: I thought I would post up a couple of old essays, poems, etc. that aren't new material in order to fill out the profile a bit. So if this is old to you, keep yer trap shut, everyone loves fresh copypasta.
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She walks out her front door, her head quickly pulling towards her chest like a turtle shying from the chill wind. It slowly stretches back to normal length as she adjusts to the cold. The coat she wears is long, long enough to almost hide her legs, black felt with a few decorative buttons. I cant quite see her hair with the stylish beanie that she is wearing, but I imagine it to be brown or black.
She walks with purpose on the sidewalk of the city she lives in. Her long stride makes a slow stacatto; a sharp beat by which she moves through the urban landscape. The grey on grey of the city background is the stuff of a James Dean movie, lightly crossed with a more post modern hip hop cynicism. At the same time I feel sure she loves to laugh, and wishes more in her life was kind. The gunmetal cityscape makes her feel wistful, but she loves the sight of the park in the summer. The natural intrusion into the human realm delights her sense of the confused: it is supposed to be the other way around. That it has to be disjointed makes the sense of completeness more poingant.
She walks with the purpose of a solider on the march, but with none of the gunslinger's rigidity. I would call it seductive if there was any indication she did it with intention. Instead, it is more captivating than sensual, her stride draws the mind more so than the genitals. It is perfect synchronization she has, she doesnt even realize it because her mind is wired out of the thoughts of others. She isnt like this all of the time, but this walk through the crowded city is to her like sitting under a po tree. True excellence has a sense of the casual to it. If you're trying to do it, then you are not doing it.
Sometimes when I see a person I feel compelled to know what they are thinking about. It makes me sad that social convention keeps me from ever really finding out.
There is a whole world of mystery and wisdom inside every pair of eyes.
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She walks out her front door, her head quickly pulling towards her chest like a turtle shying from the chill wind. It slowly stretches back to normal length as she adjusts to the cold. The coat she wears is long, long enough to almost hide her legs, black felt with a few decorative buttons. I cant quite see her hair with the stylish beanie that she is wearing, but I imagine it to be brown or black.
She walks with purpose on the sidewalk of the city she lives in. Her long stride makes a slow stacatto; a sharp beat by which she moves through the urban landscape. The grey on grey of the city background is the stuff of a James Dean movie, lightly crossed with a more post modern hip hop cynicism. At the same time I feel sure she loves to laugh, and wishes more in her life was kind. The gunmetal cityscape makes her feel wistful, but she loves the sight of the park in the summer. The natural intrusion into the human realm delights her sense of the confused: it is supposed to be the other way around. That it has to be disjointed makes the sense of completeness more poingant.
She walks with the purpose of a solider on the march, but with none of the gunslinger's rigidity. I would call it seductive if there was any indication she did it with intention. Instead, it is more captivating than sensual, her stride draws the mind more so than the genitals. It is perfect synchronization she has, she doesnt even realize it because her mind is wired out of the thoughts of others. She isnt like this all of the time, but this walk through the crowded city is to her like sitting under a po tree. True excellence has a sense of the casual to it. If you're trying to do it, then you are not doing it.
Sometimes when I see a person I feel compelled to know what they are thinking about. It makes me sad that social convention keeps me from ever really finding out.
There is a whole world of mystery and wisdom inside every pair of eyes.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
azhben:
yay!
rosaleigh:
I am now going to use the term "beefycorn" once a day. At least.