Rubber Secrets

only myself and a small percentage of the population understands the significance of this title, this picture, this post, this evening, this girl, this divisive moment, this everything.

[everyone has a secret, aw can they keep it? oh no, they can't.]

friday night: conversation number three. (2 outta 3 ain't bad.)

i should stop such talk, it's getting too close. at damn near three feet away, it's too damn close. boy oh boy, what am i to do with you?
what's an antonym for magical?
you owe me.

end scene.

pan left.

so she's running, running for a cause. girl's got hammies and six-pack like you wouldn't believe. she's running with her father-in-law, for her father-in-law, her father-in-law's got MS and her father-in-law's got nothing but deterioration and decadence in his future. so she's running, running for a cause. she runs all the time, girl's got a body like you wouldn't believe. bitch is running, running, running, her kids and husband waiting at the finish line, and she's running, running the shit outta the MS 10K. she's running, running, and her leg, right? her leg starts to go numb. she's like, hey hey hey, hold up, everyone, hold up a second...hold up just a goddamn second, and she slows to a jog and this leg of hers, this leg rippled with definition, it's numb, it's fucking numb. she's gotta walk, thinking it must be some cramp or something, or something, or something...just a cramp or something in the middle of this 10K race for MS, the run for the cure, the run, and she was just running, running...just running, running, running, and her leg goes numb...

i think this is what them folks in the city call 'irony'...

a better phrase to employ is certainly 'situational irony,' but it's not as dramatic.

and i'm all about dramatic.
[i'm an addict for dramatics; i confuse the two for love.]

rubber city, a crippling economy.
rubber legs, crippled for life.
rubbers, our broken secret.

Train Wreck

my middle name.

and he looks at me from across the party and refutes my statement, like he would know.
like you people know anything about me.
like anyone knows anything about anyone else.

i saw the hammurabi code once, with my own eyes.
one of the earliest known written records of laws that gave order to human society. i took a picture and moved on. TALK ABOUT EXEMPLARY, BYTCH.

joe says they are making buildings. buildings for the future. magnets, cables. to hang between and above our current manhattan giants. they'll be high enough. high enough above...
magnets. cables. they will have water tanks. the energy will come from the tides. the tides...

you could read that as a miracle, yeah. exemplifying our progress as humans.
from the hammurabi code to buildings that will survive the rising sea levels,
we're unstoppable. humans? fucking unstoppable.

one and one-half acres of rainforest are destroyed every single second.

fucking unstoppable.
magnets, cables.
train wrecks.

Short And Sweet

kendall: those are bubbles, not bugs.
kendall: no one asked.
kendall: kendall, can i tell you something?
kendall: shoot.
kendall: nothing feels right.
kendall: did it ever?

the people that i need to read these words never will.
they don't exist; i haven't made them up yet.

our memories are always played out faster than they occurred. it's a blessing.
when you remember that 8-hour plane ride, you remember the sun hitting the wing and destroying any view you might have of the atlantic, you remember getting the wrong meal, you remember the sudden case of restlessness leg syndrome you came down with, you can remember each and every single detail of that journey, but it doesn't take you 8 hours to remember it. it's a blessing.

and the best night you ever had -- whatever that may be: on your back or on your knees or in some arms or in some heart -- you won't ever watch that movie in its entirety ever again. it's a curse.

i'm trying too hard.
is this who you wanted to be?
are these the things you thought you'd be lying about?

you can't ever completely recall the most sound argument you've ever had in your head. you can extricate remnants, pieces, points, but never the entire dialogue, word for word, and if you do, the words come back quicker than they were spoken. the movie's always shorter the second time around.

it'll never feel the same way again. it's a...