LRL Concepts

... sweet nothings and midnight walks.

A rose on her bed that almost pricked her fingers.

A silly note left on the table.

Her attempts to poetry and verse.

Bad sex in the mornings, worse in the afternoon, and the worst song that ever played o...

I put my socks on one at a time. Carefully. No rush. Simon and Garfunkel have been playing on the radio for the past twenty minutes, but I’m only half aware of the music playing. I’m half in trance. My socks are soft and plushy. Walking in them is like walking on clouds, but I don’t want to walk today. It’s 15 degrees outside and all I want to do is stay home.

I retrieve my sneakers from the corner where I threw them yest...

The little green woman screamed. She screamed louder. So loud that her throat hurt and her lungs burned. But nobody heard her. Not the three men sitting on a bench, arms tightly crossed across their chests; not the three women on the following bench, legs tightly crossed together. They were too absorbed with nothing. A red robin appeared above their heads and flew in circles several times, then it dropped to the floor. Nobody noticed it except the little green woman. This bird that suddenly d...

I am a storyteller.

I want to tell a story today.

I don't know where it came from, but I can see this woman when I close my eyes. Not all the time, but often enough that it needs to be said.

Imagine her. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown-olive skin, and bright white teeth. She loves mini-skirts but never wears them. She adores pink, but owns not a thing that could be remote...

A love letter to no one in particular... I've had this thought in my head for the past three days, and I can't seem to get it out of there. I've tried several times to write that letter. To rationalize the reasons why it should be written, but I find none. I thought, there must be a connection between my art, and that sort of feeling; that sort of burning desire. But there's really none, is there? That sort of fire comes and goes by itself. It shows its face unannounced, without permission, a...

I wonder if blogging is more effective when you count it off. Or if I can start this second one without numbers so that it doesn't feel like there's a goal or an end place that I'm trying to reach. Of course there is. There always is when you're trying to express something. But mine is the mind of chaos: not knowing what to do in any specific order. It's pure chaos, that's what it is. Life is chaos, feelings are chaotic, everything tends to chaos. Read it up, I learned that in chemistry, not ...

This is the first time I write a blog, or an article. And I wanted to write something that spoke about me; about who I am. But you can clearly see that in my work. Then I thought, I want to write the best article in the world; win a Pulitzer or a Noble prize. Then I realized: it may be a bit too much to ask from a blog -especially a first time blogger. This is all to say that I want to be successful. I want to feel the happiness and fulfillment of success; everyone does, I suppose, but in wha...