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30.9.15

public expression of public tears

with the pope on what seems like a book tour to me, and all these movies on netflix about nunnery and a time article, i'm wondering if ordinance is a penniless path, what is the pursuit, what do [choosers of this path] lay on their death bed, thinking about? knowing this is the last time, and they won't 'get up.' Below are stills from the movie, Beyond the Hills, not to spoil anything but can you tell which one is Alina? The only character who provides any color, yet it is still dark color. That caught my eye, and how ferociously enamored Alina was with her friend, who of course took the call to ordinance and devoting her life to God.

Of all the movies surrounding religion, this one is just a blip, it doesn't go into detail in places where that could've benefited the story. And the characterization of Alina, is pretty much 'non-believer who they think is the devil' vs what she really is 'mentally-ill needy orphan, who only stepped foot in a church to get back her person, her friend, her life.' Maybe it's aiming to say what all churches deem outsiders as, but I was completely UPSET with the lack of characterization of Alina's friend, it's hard to hate or like her, because we really don't know much except that she wants Alina to let God in. Anyways...





I stared at this person on the bus and subsequently made them very uncomfortable. I thought I was smiling, apparently I just squinted my eyes like when the air conditioning or wind hits you in the face and your eyes tear up.

September is gone gone gone, and I've been reading lots of romantic portraits about why we should keep the american dream alive, none from the unprivileged, non white, non male, perspective which is always lovely.

I'm stubbornly saying sorry to myself, you know those to lists that aren't ever going to get crossed off?

but, as the title would follow: i'm coloring everything in public. a dark brown shadow, that walks before and out of my morning body, and holds an imaginary railing when 40 people try to fit into a blue, squeaky, tiny hand glow filled trolley.

That person on the bus, yes when I get on, he is on, and yes when I get off, he gets off. Or something like that, is coincidence a means to ask a question? Or will he file me a restraint for stalking?

It's so dark now that my horizontal neighbors flicked on the hall light and the kitchen light, emanating orange, it's a right to comfort that every house deserves to mix warm with cold stony weather and to weld soupy silhouettes out of handwriting and collecting the mail and suck.

Of course my phantom limb is that of a phantom mouth, and phantom me, and I keep re-writing the line, 'my shadow is ahead of me, taunting in two steps.'

[insert cheesy sad boy lyric from green day song about september],
cbnl

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