It's the start of dusk and I am walking toward my car in a downtown district. The encroaching evening is beautiful, one that brings about bare shoulders and clinking glasses among friends. I am passing restaurants that carry laughter, the aforementioned glass clinks and lit candles that are also expecting dusk. I speed up my… Continue reading Mt. Trashmore
Author: Breanna Lane
From the land of everywhere, but currently residing in Indiana. Musings on the topics most often avoided at the dinner table: politics and religion. Trying to remain a mystic amid it all.
What the Casey Anthony case taught me.
For the past couple of weeks it has been the same thing as I walk through the garage door after a long day at work. I hear the sound of some distraught news reporter, revisiting and reciting the days courtroom drama and going over the same evidence - the only evidence - that holds the… Continue reading What the Casey Anthony case taught me.
Playground
We challenge the skies, mountains, oceans and untouched wilderness. We are such dreamers in this world, attempting to prevail and conquer. Posting our flags with such pride. Yet, some fail in the face of this great nature; God's great creation. That's when we realize such a small frame in which we inhabit, such a small mind we… Continue reading Playground
Rest
"REST" has been written and i am grasping the prescription, refusal on my tongue. i turn to continue the futile digging, this incessant searching for this exclamation marked epiphany. i scratch at the bottom and return to an empty hope that, perhaps, a spot was missed. i am worn; i am tired. my eyes bear the… Continue reading Rest
>Kentucky Avenue
>It has been a week and one day since I had been in Joplin, Missouri. A week and one day since leaving my fingerprints on the utter destruction that had laid before me. A week and one day since I had met Josephine and Gary and had asked if we could help them scour through… Continue reading >Kentucky Avenue
>"Cubism Dream"
>I fear that it has been in the moments that I reach this blank page, with this blinking cursor cursing my thoughts and me, that I draw question marks in place of what I would have hoped to have been writing. My words cease to be eloquent as they leave my mind. It's like leaving… Continue reading >"Cubism Dream"
>This is our ring around the trunk.
>When we wiggle ourselves out of the truth that has been imparted unto us, we find ourselves in the hardest jigsaw puzzle of our lives. Life becomes this outrageous enigma, full of mirrors reflecting lies. The worst thing about this enigma, that in our mindless circling about, we begin to believe these reflected things. Nothing… Continue reading >This is our ring around the trunk.
>e.e. cummings
>Via Christopher Conley Tumblr:i thank You God for most this amazingday:for the leaping greenly spirits of treesand a blue true dream of sky; and for everythingwhich is natural which is infinite which is yes(i who have died am alive again today,and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birthday of life and of love… Continue reading >e.e. cummings
>Not even a million price tags
>You know what I hate? I hate that we have turned Jesus into a homeboy; an image plastered onto a shirt and sold at a shoe store. I hate that the majority of crosses that hang around necks serve no significant purpose. To some it is a symbol of "luck" - whatever that is -… Continue reading >Not even a million price tags
>It’s going to be beautiful, brother.
>It has still been since June 15th that you decided to take the scissors to all that was around you. And I don't know why today in particular it is extremely hard for me to even think about. This may even come out quite nonsensical in the end, but at this point I don't even care much.I… Continue reading >It’s going to be beautiful, brother.
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