You listen for that voice (you know, the voice that's yours but not yours, something beamed in through you by some Outer Force that borrows you to do the grunt work, for which you're eternally grateful) and you hear only silence.
It seems that our muses are only willing to share a finite amount of ideas during any one lifetime.
Sometimes we keep on going anyway, sliding into depressing parody, and the… Continue
Added by Bill Floyd on July 30, 2010 at 2:34pm —
He had this cable access show broadcast straight outta Spokane, WA, and a couple of the episodes became YouTube sensations, and then Oprah had him on, and then one of the major networks gave him his own prime-time series. For the next two years, The Nexus with Roderick Wagstaff
was a cultural blockbuster: ancillary publishing deals, rampant cross-promotion, a national speaking tour, his own line of dietary supplements. Nearly everyone around him--agents, managers, producers, half of his… Continue
Added by Bill Floyd on July 28, 2010 at 2:09pm —
His eyes are like those of a disapproving father. He knows my secrets and sets a match to them that burns me inside. Flanks rippling like blackout curtains as he turns from me, and the worst of it is that I need
that judgmental gaze. Is there anything worse than being dismissed? Banished from the world of natural strength, like I'm unworthy of the effort of scorn? So I jump on that big bastard's back and flog him like a dream that just won't surrender to the… Continue
Added by Bill Floyd on July 25, 2010 at 1:19pm —
Our forefathers designed the technology to make themselves obsolete. Each generation now is successively more sleek, pulchritudinous, disease-resistant, productive--perhaps such common traits make it difficult to tell one from the other, but our life spans are measured in centuries and we do get a lot done. Such efficiency leaves us a tempting amount of free time, and those of us who are still in our curious phase will sometimes venture out beyond the gates into the refugee camps where the… Continue
Added by Bill Floyd on July 24, 2010 at 11:57am —
They tell me the shit is terminal, so--oh man, I hate this--I suppose that means it's time for the truth. You already know what I did to you. I ain't making excuses for any of that, because excuses never did do much except piss you off. All I'll say by way of mitigation is that I was fully aware you were putting poison in my glass these past couple of years, and yet I still drank deeply. A protracted farewell toast, the genuine penitent's salute.
I know I've been granted… Continue
Added by Bill Floyd on July 21, 2010 at 8:09pm —
Between us and our destination there lies a raving thing. A sucking drain, frozen wings, a pupil fixed. We can speak here as the storm blows without, and the observer may glean the meaning of our stories but between us the gulf persists. All those traps, hearts, cellars. Periwinkle blue bleached and faded on some imaginary private island. The swamp awaits, and all the stolen money in the world will not save us from it, not even if we stole for love, because love is a raving thing.
Added by Bill Floyd on July 14, 2010 at 10:24am —
These houses might all look the same, but that's the one where it happened. I wasn't there, of course, but just trying to piece it together, God. Intense. Knowing them, how they'd been partying all weekend, and the thing with Carly and Damon, they should've figured that some serious shit was coming. Maybe they did. But none of them chose to leave.
Added by Bill Floyd on July 12, 2010 at 8:25pm —