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jarred. and childproof? |
02.24.2004 |
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inner rage finally inhabited the solidarity that he sought. roaming through silences that weaved left and right. receding into the arm-wrapping tranquil. falling into a slumber. the intruder didnt knock. the tip-toes didnt meddle with innocent quells. the touch must have felt like fire. or at least like knives at your spine. why aren't you moving? why arent you flaring? why are you lying there like youre tame?
starving wanna-be artist sits in the passenger seat. his breath lingers. hanging in the air in front of him. the stillness initiates the choking. rolling the window down to shoo the hyperventilation. instead the flashing lights lure your benzedrine out the window of a moving car. pulling you with it. heels dragging on the pavement. your face will never be the same. why arent you healing?
trampoline boy finds it increasingly difficult to keep from falling. bones break like calcium hearts. laid beautifully into the protection of teachers and peers. he jumps just to fall again. he likes the snap the black tarp makes. springs that creak and crack. your eyes have blue circles around them. like you've been punched. it kind of makes you look sad. how much have you suspended the desire to be caught—and thrust back up? how much has fallen out of your pockets?
scabbed knees doesnt remember when they were bloody. and i dont think i would either. patched concrete crumbling and dizzy go rounds are his excuse. werent they yours, too. knees arent meant to be stood on. they are soft and tear easily. dont just bite your lip. dont take that kind of knock. dont risk having anything else to stitch. bend your brows down... and go to fucking town. how many screams will you swallow? how is it that tears are coming out of your nose?
my older brother taught me how to fly. we sat on the curb in front of our house drinking a fifth and chewing on childrens tylenol. it feels like the pavement gives a little each time a car passes. it feels like rain every time a puddle gets thrown onto our faces. at the time, i felt like i was above it all. i remember laughing because it tickled my stomach.
no ones ever acrophobic when they learn to fly. no one but me. the most freedom ive ever felt, and i want to give it back. i cant believe this is happening. |
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| 5:57 am |
the kidnap kid said this. |
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| more frequent updates? |
yes, yes, children. we are back! be sure to sign up at the mailing list below to receive notices on phrensick updates.
we will be updating our list shortly to those of you IDIOTS that checked up on the site while we were on an eight-month hiatus! |
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| mailing list! |
sick of visiting phrensick and seein' the same old un-updated site? well, join the mailing list and be alerted to new posts.
go to the contact page... remember to put in your email address... and put "add list" in the body.
god, phrensick's always on the cusp of technology. |
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| POLL |
last night, phrensick polled the current 40-man roster of the MILWAUKEE BREWERS to find out their favorite and least favorite posts.
2003 Milwaukee Brewers favorite post:
XANDER'S "Owimoweh, Owimoweh."
2003 Milwaukee Brewers least favorite post:
SUI GENERIS'S "Popcorn Carts."
(poll was taken of the seven players that returned their questionnaires) |
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| response to POLL |
all i have to say to the milwaukee brewers: sarcasm and base hits... who would've guessed the brew crew couldn't get either?
~sui generis |
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