Writings

This is Ben. Ben goes to community college and failed a philosophy course. HAHAHA. Ben knows nothing and does even less. His only vice is the sweet tasting girl who bends over in front of her apartment window to feed her cat. He watches her daily, weeps in his soul when the blinds are closed. Ben, you perverted kid! He thinks in his head, "She will never see me. No, no."

But this day is different. This day she has a dark haired boy over on her couch. She brings him tea and Ben watches him watch her ass. A rage builds inside Ben. "How could she? My darling, my angel." Haha pathetic Ben!

He rushes across the street and knocks on her door. Too late he realizes what a stupid thing he has done. She opens the door, looks him up and down, and says, "Can I help you?"

"Uhhh...are you familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ Laterday Saints?"

She shuts the door.

Poor Ben goes back home. He sits on his bed and studies algebra.

Ben grows up to be a used tire salesman. No one ever watches him through any window. He doesn't even have a cat.




LO SIENTO
We were conjoined twins in our past lives. This is why it is so awkward for us to say goodbye. You see, we have only had to say it a handful of times;

It's hard to say because we aren't about to die.

I enjoy the change though. I can see your face. I can hold you with both arms.

Is it embarrassing to know that at a time our hearts pumped each other's blood? How stupid are we to think we could ever be that close again? I feel not only phantom limbs, but a phantom body, a phantom head. These things were once part of me. This is why we feel something is missing.

I have never known what it is like to have a birthday alone...

Think of how exciting it is for our skin to touch again! I can bearly stand feeling our shoulders disconnected. I'm so sorry...

I'm sure it was my idea. It's okay if you hate me. I know how resentful I would be if you had our shared flesh severed without warning. I'll tell them to put us together again next time, if you'll have me.



THIS GIRL

This girl does not want to be an American anymore.

So she learns French, moves to France, tells everyone her name is Jacqueline, and then she is French. After a few years she grows tired of her foreign love affair, eating strong cheeses, and talking politics with psuedo-intellectual men who stink. She decides that she wants to live a more simple life.

She learns Spanish in Spain, moves to Chile, tells everyone her name is Frida and hopes for a unibrow and a succession of doomed relationships so she can make beautiful art. After two years no beautiful art has been made. This girl is a failure! Her life is all lies! She spends too much time reading Sylvia Plath and not understanding most of it. She thinks, Me! Me! I can be poet laureate! So she writes and writes and writes and writes. She writes 10,000 poems and when she goes back to read them she realizes they are all typed on the same piece of paper. The paper is black.

This girl decides to go back to America. (She still thinks in English) There is no home to come home to so she rents an apartment in Denver. There she meets a boy with red hair. She has always wanted a baby with red hair. She thinks, maybe I should have a baby with this boy. Together they decide to build a house in the mountains.

She dies tragically when a sheet of dry wall smashes her head in. This girl's last words were, "Fucking shit."

This boy was ruined!

"Look at what has become of all my hopes and two-by-fours!" This girl knew no one would ever love her, but this boy loved her. He loved her- sans drywall, sans failure, sans French.