Posts Tagged ‘Frankie’

skull stuff


By God, this internet thing is something else. Just when I’m yawning in the face of Facebook and thinking it has nothing new to offer me, a whole new world opens up to me out of nowhere (but not on Facebook, usually, might I add) and I’m beguiled all over again, woozy as the first […]

I didn’t really think about it too much at the time. It was momentarily strange and then the day kicked in and it was nothing at all. Also, I have been dreaming so much lately it feels like I have a sort of underwordly/hall-of-mirrors/phantasmic other life thing going on. It sounds all very exotic when I describe it, […]

Not sure if it was just me, but I used to spend an inordinate amount of time when I was younger designing cover pages for my projects. I drew them first and then ran out of time for the actual project. But at least I had a damn good cover page. And if I had […]

Tonight (Matthew) I was going to talk about escapism, but now I’m not. Now I’ve got blog stagefright. Or maybe I just have nothing to say. Earlier this evening it felt like I had a lot to talk about. Stuff about whether I am barking up the wrong tree or chasing my tail to no avail, […]

I just found out the meaning of holding pattern, for real. I thought it meant something completely different. Sort of like a holding pen. Somewhere where you keep agitated hens, or slaughter-ready pigs. I think that’s what I thought it was, beyond just being an expression, I mean. Today I had a ghostwriting dilemma. For […]

I felt a bit weird about posting the word/picture thing above. It’s taken me a couple of days to actually do it. Going back to my what’s private/what’s not musings from a few nights ago, this felt a bit earnest. A bit too heart-in-my-mouth-or-on-my-sleeve or wherever. So just now I did a curious thing. I cropped […]

Today it felt like winter. I haven’t felt much like writing. I think about Frankie every morning. I think about what to wear and whether to bother with makeup. I think about not much. I get downstairs, unmade up but presentable enough. Sylvie is usually sleeping on the newspaper on the kitchen table, curled up […]