Happy Hour
Chapter 6: What a blessing to have figured it out, to be here once again at The Roses for this evening sun–though it’s funny I hardly remember leaving last night. Scratch that I don’t remember at all–was I really that wasted?
shadow of a doubt
This newsletter’s like an inverted chain letter: the shorter its reach the better. Out of all the people who read it only a chosen few really get the secret instructions and are sufficiently empowered to carry them out.
Are you one of them? Am I?
unhome
Chapter Five: “Wait, wait…” I said. “Are you calling the police?” to which they nodded, the phone already pressed to their ear.
“No, please don’t do that. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I said, “I’m not totally sure it was real.”
New Angel
If only I was like Odious and had you to help me! I could type out the transmission from your satellite heart, my love played back to me, alien and strange like my voice on a cassette; I’d type as fast as I could to transcribe the dark feedback loop between us.
white shirts
Jesse James (who now goes by the name Lil Mountain) showed up on my windowsill, skinny and inspired and wearing an ET mask as he busted the whole scope of the thing even wider, so that now I don’t know who is on what side, and if there are even sides at all.
perfection edits
When we got back to the compound and my service returned, I saw 13 unread messages from my usually impassive friend and felt that old immediate need, that rush to respond. But first I had a smoke. They were pissed because of an edit I made to their last post...
midnight & the stars and you
What if, instead of being a benevolent entity helping to lead us out of the maze of ordinary reality, Heir Max was the Minotaur at its center–the half-man, half-beast form of a demented deity that wanted to be worshipped like a ferreal god?
love is telepathic
Instead of coldly calculating the correct emotional response, the most human among us are laughing out loud at the saddest parts and living strange lives as they forever reach for the golden string.
Nada & the New Style
Chapter 3: No news, no obligations, no parties to try and pull myself together for. Just the two of us, me helping her create a revolution with art, like lassoing a satellite spun out of orbit, and beaming its frequency into the darkness.
