i am the last dregs of tea in a china cup

plasticmustache @ 2007-05-19T03:12:00

2007-05-19T07:15:30Z

I'm always interested to see how people react when someone starts singing on the bus.

plasticmustache @ 2007-03-02T08:28:00

2007-03-02T13:28:37Z

I enjoy bowling.

Sometimes.

plasticmustache @ 2006-12-08T09:37:00

2006-12-08T09:37:08Z

Sometimes I think of myself as a piece of toast, crispy and burnt around the edges.

Waiting for butter to be slathered over my middle.

It gets to be dirty, sometmes, in here.

I had a day today

2006-12-03T05:46:51Z

The sweet taste of cola sitting out in the sun, the warmth of freshly laundered boxer shorts, the slick feeling of a diaper wipe, the barest whisper of breeze through the dew-dappled oak leaves in the calm before a storm. The sway of tree limbs in the morning song, the tap of a pen against the desk of a tired, overworked man. The grease of a hair product. The smell of an ironed stuffed animal's ear. The wet spot on your sleeve where you wipe your dripping nose. The jiggle of a bobblehead, always agreeing.

The scribble of ink doodles on a paper held while on the telephone. The beep of an alarm clock when waking up just isn't a possibility. The vvoosh of an umbrella, opening quickly in the lazy drizzle on a Sunday afternoon in the city. The tap of shoes on a damp, puddled sidewalk on your way to the park to meet a friend on a bench.

The snap of scissors cutting through a credit card. The click of joints. The feeling of fuzz on a dry, parched tongue and throat, red from laughing and yelling with old friends. The air around a well-liked gathering place, thick with honey-soaked warmth, rugs and comfortable seats.

What am I to you? Or, to be more exact and terribly more important in the scheme of everything: What are you to you?

plasticmustache @ 2006-12-02T05:13:00

2006-12-02T05:13:50Z

I am the lone cricket, silent on his rock.

I am the ripple of water from the drop of a smooth pebble.

I am the click of the spacebar in a hurriedly typed draft.

I am the slightest swallow when faced with a new situation.

I am the folded paper, passed around the classroom.

I am the whisper, the laughter, the cough, the sneeze, the gloating, the bemoaning, the dog, the rooster, and the ever important letter A.

I am nothing potent in this world, I am everything that escapes notice.

I am, as are you.