l o n g i n g f o r a l i f e i n s u l a t e d f r o m e v e r y t h i n g e l s e
Always looking out the window,
really just here.
The hard part about publishing a public journal is practicing restraint. There just has to be a rule about telling everyone about yourself; a protocol on self-indulgence; a ceiling that marks an
entry as 'this is too much, delete it.'
Boulevard Avenue is
Editor's Choice @
Promise it to the wind,
write it on water, and
hope someone will remember.
"I want to record how the world comes at me, because I think it is indicative of the way it comes at everyone." (Phillip Lopate)
Love thy neighbors,
or at least try.
One of these days I will arson my stupid neighbors to death. Nothing like a wall of flame to induce an infectious wave of panic. I've thought of poison, but there there are too many mouths
to stuff it into. It's not like how it was in provinces of old, where people drank from a communal stream. My neighbors drink Coke, and tap water. No, I'm good with fire. Fire is cool.
Notwithstanding Me
The last person you want to confide in is the guy in the mirror. When you confess, he's not interested; he knows it already, whatever it is. When you confess anyway, he gets bored and
shoots you accusing looks: you're being melodramatic. When you close your eyes, he's gone, but he's really there, seeing you for the sham that you are. When you turn the other cheek, you
see exactly that cheek, and not the other one. When you so don't care for his approval, he can't even begin to feel sorry for you. When you do feel sorry, he magnifies your self-shame. When
you approve of yourself, he grins, because by then only he is approving of you. When you're so into yourself, he mimics every move you make, and then you notice he's faking it. Living with
a shadow is better: you at least don't have an image and likeness of you sneering.
Though his mask hid his face, Erwin's jaw dropped. Above the San Francisco bridge, the Hob Goblin dangled his screaming girlfriend with his right hand, while aiming the other at the traffic below. "Noooo!" Erwin screamed, his voice muffled by the winds. The Goblin let out a sarcastic laugh. He truly was enjoying this. Erwin's muscles tightened. Standing on one of the bridge's thick support wires, he couldn't do a thing, though he was a sprint away. "Take one step and I drop her. Take one step and I rocket the support wires till maybe a dozen cars slide off into the cold waters below." The scenario was similar to what the earlier Goblin nearly pulled off. "I know what you're thinking, hero, but the son outlives the father, the successor outperforms his predecessor." Another long laugh. "Deal with me!" Erwin pleaded. "Let them all go!" "As you say, webhead." The frames of life slowed down. Erwin ran and dived for the girl, his right wrist aimed at the Goblin, the other toward a spot on the bridge. The Goblin fired rockets. Erwin's web splattered on the Goblin's visor. Erwin grabbed his girl while the other webline connected; swinging from that one, he saw that the Goblin had recovered, that the support wires had snapped. The Goblin took to the air, eyeing Erwin. The bridge was groaning. Cement and steel tilted and cars began to slide to one side. Erwin threw his girl toward a support beam and fired webbing to both cushion her impact and keep her there. Gunfire from the maniac above, slicing his webline. Now, Erwin was airborne, in a free fall while the Goblin sped toward him, ignoring the girl. Erwin took out his cellphone, as he saw cars beginning to fall from the bridge. A hero is never alone. "Hello, Clark? Putang-ina tulungan mo ko!"
