"You're just a girl, not even a pretty one. You were just something to fill my spare time, nothing more. And these? Well they're just notes."

{short story; fiction} her funereal is bleak, and still, it's amazing. what her mother and I had planned for "two hundred – tops", ended up being just a scratch on the surface for the five hundred or more that showed up. we haven't anywhere near the materials to carry this out, and even though it is a funereal, hungry people are hungry people. then again, it would be something of Nixon's personality to have meager scraps and keep everyone happy. or at least, what with the circumstances, satisfied. but I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself, talking about all this funereal business. you haven't yet had the chance to even meet her! all the better, because none of us ever truly had either. {all rights reserved}

"We called it zero o’clock. Because to us time wasn’t about the number, it was about the feeling. And zero o’clock was the feeling of not being able to sleep but at the same time not caring. It brought this weird ataraxia and for some reason we liked it." His name was Finn, and his biggest flaw was himself ...even though he would never admit. He used to kiss me on the my forehead and when he did his eyes would glow in ways most eyes shouldn't. This isn't a love story though. We were insomniacs, and the restless don't find love, they find sleep. So when I look at his empty chair in class, or realize I miss his kisses I tell myself he's sleeping, and pretend he's not gone. Coming Soon in January 2015

do you ever wonder what it would feel like to sink deep in the ocean and fade into trillions of stars ( miscellaneous poetry and prose ) © xnycophiliax [ two-thousand-&-fourteen ] lower case intended ( disclaimer ; i do not own the cover art - credit to whoever drew it )