selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: June 2010
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html
It felt as if my brain were somehow smaller. Like there were some things I just couldn't access. But thoughts began to pierce through. It was a time both numb. Posted by Libby H. Sometimes when I'm at work I have these moments. Little thoughts that I felt needed to be documented so they could be remembered and perhaps expanded upon later. So I print out strips of receipt tape and get them illegibly scrabbled down. So, Here are a few of them. The bees look to be in so much pain when they die. I know exact...
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: Things I Fear: My Children
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010/07/things-i-fear-my-children.html
Things I Fear: My Children. With the end of children's shows like Mr. Rogers. And the onset of the chaos that is The Wiggles. I fear that one day. My children will be better at making fruit salad. Posted by Libby H. Marks&Spencer Cashmere Sweater Remix. Hyperbole and a Half. Singing through the silence. Give it to me. Words of the Firefly Thief. View my complete profile. The Mafia and Bobcats. Things I Fear: My Children. Things I Fear: Future. Designed by FTL Wordpress Themes.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: The Hats We Wear
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010/08/hats-we-wear.html
The Hats We Wear. We have this old trucker hat that floats around my house. And clashing with our decor. But it has a great story behind it. We used to live in a Navy town. And so many grew up fatherless out of necessity. My grandparents came to visit one summer. And my neighbor's husband was on duty. She was nine months pregnant and my mom was supposed to bring her to the hospital when she got the call. My mom was away when we received the call. To the hospital to give birth. Posted by Libby H.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: The Mafia and Bobcats
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010/07/mafia-and-bobcats.html
The Mafia and Bobcats. Sales are down today. Slow moments and I'm standing there near the counter. Meticulously sweeping perma-dirt out of the old cracked wood floor. And Steven walks up. A Few Notes About Steven -. 1 He mumbles something fierce. 2 He always sounds like laughing, even when he's serious. 3 He uses many profanities (not applicable to this story, only a little to the next). And Steve walks up holding a bottle of ammonia. Isn't this what the mob uses? And he stares at me. And I stare at him.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: July 2010
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html
The Mafia and Bobcats. Sales are down today. Slow moments and I'm standing there near the counter. Meticulously sweeping perma-dirt out of the old cracked wood floor. And Steven walks up. A Few Notes About Steven -. 1 He mumbles something fierce. 2 He always sounds like laughing, even when he's serious. 3 He uses many profanities (not applicable to this story, only a little to the next). And Steve walks up holding a bottle of ammonia. Isn't this what the mob uses? And he stares at me. And I stare at him.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: December 2009
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html
It would be great. Right now I'm listening to some Sufjan Stevens. There are few things I love more than sitting sideways on the chair in my living room and listening to his wistful tunes. Every time it only solidifies my wish for a banjo. Then I could be melancholy like Sufjan. How awesome would that be? One last thing: Wistful is the word Mrs. Knol gave me. I like it. Posted by Libby H. Sometimes I write poems that don't match my feelings. But there are worse things. Joy is a subtle thing. And I hate w...
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: April 2010
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html
30 days until my life is different. Posted by Libby H. We Were So Picturesque. These walls don't hold us in today. We don't gather in these halls. Little scraps of paper give destination and estimation of return. From the way the wind hits the windows you might think this house alone. But look at the walls. We were so picturesque. Posted by Libby H. I am a particularly wearied individual. But all things considered, I only cried once today. That's a good sign. Posted by Libby H. Mostly in that jagged order.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: November 2009
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html
We are six small dinghies. Bobbing in the surf. Just off of shore. And you might call us in. And you might pity us, out there. But the current doesn't keep us. For on land reality breaks. Harsher than the strongest of waves. And the breezes carry more than light and sea. Perhaps we'll moor together. Catching in our nets music. Of sea and sails and sun. No one decides if you're worth it. Posted by Libby H. I'm going to be vague here, and I know it. And I'm not sure I want that. But you know what it's like.
selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com
Selective Narcoleptic: August 2010
http://selectivenarcoleptic.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html
The Hats We Wear. We have this old trucker hat that floats around my house. And clashing with our decor. But it has a great story behind it. We used to live in a Navy town. And so many grew up fatherless out of necessity. My grandparents came to visit one summer. And my neighbor's husband was on duty. She was nine months pregnant and my mom was supposed to bring her to the hospital when she got the call. My mom was away when we received the call. To the hospital to give birth. Posted by Libby H. I have t...
