Amboy
Hello, my name is standing tall and sticky. I remembered to lick the very tip of the envelope extra today and five stamps too many went in the bell jar. Really, you grow plants in those? That is fascinating. In fact, just last week I fastened eighty pins onto that coat over there, hanging on that free hanger we bargained out the thrift store. It was a sight! Sighs sometimes come out too sharply, like the sound those chairs with the plastic cushions make when you sit on them, and more than anything I would love to crack two eggs right now and pick out the two bits of eggshell that always seem to slip in. Do you think chickens ever have issues with their sexual identity? Glen thinks so. He says it’s all the hormones we’re pumping in them. I tried to forget he said that so I cleaned out my ears with a Q-tip. Some of the cotton got caught on his words and I had bunny tufts for about all of fourteen minutes. Then I forgot. It was so easy to forget, like dusty windchimes in the desert, they sound, and sound, and sound, I can see them moving and clinking and clanking but where is the clink? The clank? I don’t hear I can’t hear I never heard so much truth so much anger so much lust (are you still yelling at me?)
(via vaniawang)
