]]> http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/05/15/3-seconds-2/feed/ 0 http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/05/14/link/ http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/05/14/link/#comments Mon, 14 May 2012 07:01:45 +0000 jonathan http://www.iliketotellstories.com/?p=18118

Your Breasts Sparkle Under Keeping Your Forever Promise

Your Breasts Sparkle With Fire Under Your Half Broken Heart

I was in a room given to me as I had no where else to go in a town that was once my home but was no longer.
I had been just near here over 100 or more times & never ever wanted to stay, here.

I was given 7 hours here for free to sleep & I couldn’t. I wanted the rain & the snow I saw through the glass to cover my skin. I tried to open the window yet it only moved the width of my thumb & the width of my finger. So I stuck them both in the crack & felt the wet offered from the sky. I then pulled my hand out, pushed my face in that crack & stuck my tongue out as far as I was able, I wanted to taste that wet, too.

I wanted to hear the wind scream as it whipped around the glass & around the crack, so I left the glass open all night.

The other glass in the room looked the same when I looked at it, only it wasn’t wet. So I turned it on using its buttons.

Upon it, immediately, was an image of a woman on fire.

Then there was a woman in pain or pleasure or both, I couldn’t tell the difference.

Then there was home on fire that faded over or with or into a moon, a full moon. I do not know which came first or any other kind of what or why.

- – -

I turned it off and never, for so long ever, looked again.
I took all the sheets off the bed. I took all the pillows off the bed. I only left myself one, the one that had the message, seemingly just for me.
The one I imagine still had other all over it & I rested my face upon it.

I pretended I was many a Sweet Dreams® & I let the wet drops of rain & snow from my face drip all over it for the next others.

Almost a year later from this night & a half a year ago now, I was staring at a piece of glass in another room I didn’t want to be within. On that glass appeared a woman I had never seen before whose hair almost appeared to be on fire. She screamed over and over:

“You can’t choose what stays and what fades away.”

See Album – One Fifty Three

One, Of A Five Volume Album Set

The First Settlement

City Of The Violet Crown

153

Queen Edward

122

I Feel Like I Was Born Yesterday But I Only Wish I Was

SUBJECT:

You won’t get disappointed

BODY:

Hey honey,

I want you so bad you are my only wish…

I stopped in front of a place because I saw this car. I parked and made this one photograph of it. A man approached and proclaimed:

“You must be an American?”

I said,

“I Am.”

He said,

“Be Proud.”

I said,

“I am. Can I take your picture with your car?”

He said,

“You bet.”

I said,

“Lean forward, more into the light. Thank you.”

Then he drove away. I went in this place and I bought M&M’s®. They were in a blue package.

“Each one hurt, in their own ways.”

Stand Before Us All, Make All Our Promises Last Forever, By The Power In You

Press Play To See My All This Day
 

When I turned 18, America forcibly taught me my life was less valuable than a woman’s. I never got over this. I don’t know where you’re from. I don’t know what you learned. I don’t know how you learned it. I know I didn’t invite you here. I know I didn’t ask you anything. I know I didn’t say anything to you. I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know if you want my money. I don’t know if you want my attention. You just appeared here all on your own, a MAPS spelled backwards, deaf, mute and blind to any real me, seeing you. I waited for you to leave, as is my nature, but my source of energy died.

So how did you know how old I almost was? How do you know I shave my head? How did you know it’s hard to be me? How did you know I cannot catch on? How do you know I don’t know what I am doing? How did you know I am an asshole? How did you know I am terrified of you? Do you really think I am fine?

Do you really want to thank me?

“They Don’t Get Life The Way I Get It“

Sell My Or Me Something In Death

Body:

Passed away at 915PM this evening

Sent via BlackBerry® by AT&T™

Received 921PM Equivalent

14 April 2012

The doctor called your daughter, she got in her car to come see you after she called your son.

Your son, he then got in his car to come see you, too. One took only a few minutes, one took several hours.

They were both there before you went away.

Thirty Of My Minutes Twelve Minutes After Those Six

The New-York Historical Society

- – -

I Saw Abraham On The Steps & I Slapped Him As Hard As I Could

He Is Not As Tall As His Legend & His Bronze Did Not Hurt My Hand But Instead Gave It Pleasure

please press play

RYAN

press play
 
 

Today I saw a bat on a stake. Today I saw a bird on a roost. Today I saw a spider in a crevasse.

Today I saw a mountain lion on a perch. Today I saw a snake in the grass. Today I saw a bird in a cage.

Can You Hear Me Breathing ?

15 October 1997

#3, A 100 Page Letter To Amy In 40 Days

Maybe or maybe not the day I wrote this witnessed event down, I went over to a friends.
It was late. His woman was away. I slumped into a chair and starred at my feet. This friend of mine said, “You smell like a marker.”

Happy Birthday To My Love & My Sorrow

3/21 and 3B4

Closer Quiet

Circles Equal A Sum Of What Has Become

Precisely As A Science I Wish I Couldn’t Measure

I Can See The Raindrops Your Hair Is Holding

Six maybe seven years ago I was in the bodega across from my home, waiting in a line. I looked behind me as I was bored and frustrated and impatient. There, directly behind me was a woman towering over me, so it seemed. I am six feet and an inch, yet she was even taller. I had to look up to see her eye to eye and I liked this, a great deal. I was frozen. I couldn’t stop staring. Her hair, her features and her stare, her stare forward and as bored as I felt, I was frozen. I was staring at her and I didn’t care and she didn’t notice. I remember her clothes, the way she shifted her weight with impatience in that same damn line directly behind me. I remember her fidgets, the way she sighed, the way she played with her hair and the way she walked by me when she left, each movement as if planned to be full of nothing but grace. The woman I had come here with noticed all this and laughed at me for being such a fool. I laughed too. Over a short time, back there, back then, I would see her only 4 more times. Each of these times I became as frozen as before. I didn’t find it funny anymore and neither did the woman I had been there with for all that time so long ago.

Then some years went by. The woman I had been there with left me and I left that place to live in the home of my grandmother far far away, a woman whose first name belonged to only to her. In all my time alive, only she had this name and I had never met another. I lived in her home for over a year waiting for something it took me far too long to realize wasn’t real. So when I knew this, with all my heart, I left it and went to another new place, far away from the there of being frozen and far away from the there where I had waited. Then, right after I arrived here where I now am, this woman of only this name, my grandmother, died before I was ready and moments before her birthday.

Then some days went by. I received a letter of electronic from a stranger on a place where lonely look to cure it. I looked, I read and I saw a photograph with a description of height. I recognized her immediately when I would later learn I was nothing but a stranger to her, I was frozen, again… It was the woman who had been behind me in line, 6 years prior or maybe 7 years prior. I didn’t know how to tell her, I wasn’t sure I should tell her and knew I didn’t want to tell her. But I did tell her, all because she found me first not knowing what I can remember…

I was about to meet the only other woman who shared my grandmother’s name.

The second time I met her we ate a meal, we told each other stories and we went for a walk and a drive. Just to make things. We found the light we liked in the dark. We parked my chariot close and left the music up, loudly. Then I would walk up behind her, place my arms around her and with her forever machine I watched her make her hands dance, just for me while I stood too close watching the forever machine’s screen through her hair as she leaned back into me.

Press Play – Her Here With Feathers In Her Hair

Before we met for the first time, we discovered that we were born just days apart, the same year. We discovered our fathers started their lives the same way. We discovered that some of the same people were in our overlapping circles from lives long ago and we discovered that we once lived across the street from one another, for a very long time. From my old there of frozen, if we were to have looked the correct direction from our doorways, we would have seen the home door of the other. We were this close for that long so long ago, yet I only saw her five times, back then.

Before we met for the first time, I told her, “I’d like to take photo of us, standing side by side, full length against a plain wall anywhere outside, two strangers side by side but holding hands.” During our first time together, she asked me why I hadn’t taken it yet. I told her it was because I was shy. She told me the light was fading and that I better hurry. So I did. I stopped us right where we were. There was a brown wall and there was a place to set my forever machine. I set the machine, got it ready, asked her to set her cup down, pressed the button, walked over to her, stood next to her, held her hand for the first time and I waited. I would only notice the pickle, at my feet, moments before I first sent it to her.

When we met for the first time, we talked and talked and talked.
We would discover that many of our lives greatest and worst moments, had the same timeline.
Sometimes just days apart.

- – -

When we met for the third time, I didn’t know it would be the last.

I only made one picture that lovely night and I’ve already shared it, before today.

I fly a Texas flag on my shoulder somedays but not for the why’s people think I may when they see it. When I am sometimes too early to a place I have to be, I come here. At first because I am lazy, indifferent, it’s easy and all that is nearby this other place I must be.

Inside this place, each early morning, there are many many men. These many many men talk openly and randomly to no one in particular, sometimes they engage each other without direction or purpose because, well, there are no women there to talk to and they have what appears no where else to be.

They are there each time I go, no matter which early morning arches I find myself under.

I pretend I cannot hear it all, see it all, because I do not want to. I do not want to hear it, see it or be one of them. Yet, there I often sit.

Not this day you see, I was leaving and one man looked me in the eye, from his perch next to his many many man brother.

They stopped their talk of His Revelations just for Me:

Saved Man – “Hey Texas! You from Texas?”

Me – “Sort of, but from there, no sir.”

Saved Man – “Where about’s son? I am from Houston.”

Me – “I could have guessed that, tis the way life presents itself to me.”

Saved Man – “[Loud, Rancorous, Laughter]“

Me – “Curry Creek, well, San Antonio.”

Saved Man – “I haven’t been back to Houston in……. Um, I don’t know now, 25 years.”

Me – “I have been there more recently than that.”

Saved Man next to Saved Man, clutching a very worn, large black bible:

“I am from Houston too.”

“I am from Houston too.”

“I am from Houston too.”

This very old man never looked me in the eye and never stopped softly repeating this. His hair was white, his skin almost translucent, his blue eyes nervously surveying all of me but my blue eyes. The other man was with a worn red face of hard outdoor living, a black jacket and perched on top of his head, with him on his perch, was one old, straw, equally as beaten as his face, cowboy hat.

I pretended to tip the cowboy hat I was not wearing and stepped out into the sunlight because I could not fly.

Someone’s little girl once riding next to me in a car, a little girl not unlike one that could maybe be mine, in the quiet pointed out the window and said:

“Dying holes.”

We all laughed and kept driving by a place much like this one.

This day #145, I looked out my window, up the hill and saw someone’s little girl at a similar hole in the ground because this is how much she still loves who stays there. She took flowers, a bag of her things, sat on a soft white blanket and removed her shoes so she could feel the grass on her bare skin. The other side of that grass on her skin, also touches who stays down there. This is what she wanted to feel since she cannot touch anything else, skin to skin.

Three days later, I looked up this same hill, someone else who stays in a hole nearby must have also felt that love through that grass.

It would appear this other left their hole to maybe try and find her. That someone’s little girl’s love was just that strong.

I Am Only Still Here Because I Still Love You More Than This

]]> http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/03/12/dying-holes/feed/ 0 http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/03/09/hero/ http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/03/09/hero/#comments Fri, 09 Mar 2012 08:01:26 +0000 jonathan http://www.iliketotellstories.com/?p=17339
 

SUBJECT:

I need you to love me

BODY:

I want you to give me your love, I need you to love me.

SUBJECT:

i wannted to send u my photo long

BODY:

i wannted to send u my photo long ago, but i was afraid that u dont like to see me. i hope u like it.

SUBJECT:

Re:

BODY:

Sorry, I hope that last note didn’t come off like me sounding asshole-ish. I realize it could have read that way, but that’s not the way I meant it. I’m just tentative to have given you my address because I don’t know we stand and I know you have a propensity to want to share things. Giving you my address is like sharing a bed with you — you have so much Access to me, and that’s not something many people have. I’m very private in that regard.

I know you understand this or I wouldn’t have told you. I hope you understand, rather. I really want to see you and sharing with you means a lot to me. No matter what strange region we inhabit.

SUBJECT:

Look me up

BODY:

Hey honey,

I’m a freak in bed and I want to spend the whole night with you.
What are you waiting for, come find me…

SUBJECT:

I’ve got a crush on you

BODY:

Hi,

I thinks i saw you once and i really liked you.

I Wanted You & You To Make Something Beautiful Here In This Grid

Here Or Here Or Here

Here Or Here Or Here

Here Or Here Or Here Times Six Hundred Thirty Seven (x637) Others, This My All Lucky Day #142

Los Angeles

]]> http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/22/mr/feed/ 0 http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/20/only/ http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/20/only/#comments Mon, 20 Feb 2012 08:01:50 +0000 jonathan http://www.iliketotellstories.com/?p=17218
 

Only Because You Asked Me To Did I Take This One

A Bird, A Tree & A Skull

Los Angeles

]]> http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/17/muse-mute/feed/ 0 http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/15/nourishment-from-a-source/ http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2012/02/15/nourishment-from-a-source/#comments Wed, 15 Feb 2012 10:30:31 +0000 jonathan http://www.iliketotellstories.com/?p=17192
 
” the milk is good

so are we. ”
 

 

 
A Movie Poster Was Written Just For Me – Day 137 – I Hung It On My Wall

“I Do Not Want To Be The Recipient Of Your Love Or Your Hate.” – This My All Day

Morgan Hill, CA

Everything Is A Circle & Something Is Always On Fire, Somewhere

Here I Saw An Untrue Word Under A Not Real Sun & I Have Never Seen A Horse Fly Anywhere I Have Been

I Can See My Shadow, Everyday & Everybody Blinks, All The Time

I saw the light and put that window to my right down all the way. I pressed the gas, harder. I outstretched my arm and made my machine ready. I didn’t even look at it or through it. I don’t need to anymore. When I needed to, I pressed the button, harder.

Somewhere this very night, there were two men, shirtless, pantless, barefoot & not angry in a field of tall green grass all burnt black with a single light shining down upon them all in yellow. These two men were fighting, these two men were trying to fucking beat one another with all their might. The blood and broken bones meant nothing any more, all that mattered was the breath in their hearts for they each wanted the others.

I had only ever been to two operas so far. Both at the Met, both with a woman, each a different woman, both times made me cry, years and years apart. The first hadn’t been planned. I had planned a grand romantic night that involved a play. Thirty minutes before that curtain, we learned the actress we came to see roll around in her underwear, would not perform this night. Annoyed, I grabbed my true loves hand, left the theater, hailed us a cab, went to the only place I knew would be better, bought us tickets in the orchestra, went in, sat down and waited, mere moments. The lights went down, the stage slowly glowed brighter and the lone dark figure of a man started his moaning over some strings singing, moaning, even lower than him. It had only been a few seconds of lovely noise, but I was crying like I never had before. I couldn’t stop until he did. Then I spent the next hour waiting for the intermission so I could pee. These two feelings, were both, incredibly painful, just as it was when this woman slipped away before I could catch her, years later.

The next wanted to go with me to an opera as I think I told her how much the first had meant and she had never been. The Met was so close to my home, I wanted to take her. We got dressed up, we walked outside my home, we had my neighbor take a photograph of us, I hailed us a cab and we went. We held hands, we went inside, found what would turn out to be our private box and when it started, they played the one piece, the only piece I wanted or came to hear, they got it out of the way, just for me. When it was over, I watched her look around and listen and stare back at me. When she wasn’t looking, I would wipe away the random tear before she could see it. You see, she was already the wife of another even though I met her first. Later, when she had left him and found me again, she met her next husband while we were together.

I was on a plane somewhere once and had to stop at an in between somewhere to switch flights. My second flight got delayed, many many many hours. I got bored and checked a social site I usually didn’t. On this site, I learned the woman I was to see where I was going was “in a relationship” with someone that made her “all kinds of happy.” She knew I was to see her, you see, she had invited me to without telling me all this. Not much longer later, another woman who no longer wanted me around, much to do because of this other, I saw on this site was still using my photograph of her, well, us, as her icon. She wouldn’t return my calls or my notes or see me, but there we were for her all to see. This same site also wouldn’t stop showing me those I chose not to see and this site was showing me my images, that I did not want there, of those that also no longer desired me, using my images of them to meet their next. All these things were incredibly painful.

On July 11, 2009, I had spent the day making something, like I always do on this day. DIES SATURNI XI JULIUS MMIX. It had been a long day, a stressful day. I lost a competition I didn’t want to, I walked in the woods making things because I couldn’t forget something, I had recently returned from a journey far away full of wonderment, the one I wanted to see here this night was not in town and I drove, a lot. It was getting late, I didn’t want to stop making things, I didn’t want to lose my mood. Yet, I was invited to a party and I wanted to go, so I did. I walked around in the crowd where I didn’t know anyone, I wanted to leave. I found the birthday man, wished him his well and turned to leave. He pointed to the corner, in this corner I saw a circle of men I believe to be my brothers, so I stayed. The night got better, just like that. Before I left this crowd, I met a woman. We exchanged hello’s and she took a picture of us together, she in fact took two. Later in the following days, she invited me to know her on this or that same social site. I accepted, I blushed and sent her the pictures I took, well, she took, we took, then that was that.

Over the next year and half, on this social site, I watched this woman from the party post self portraits, often. Very often. They were from all over the place. Not just down the street in my once city, but all over and further away. I liked this. At some point, long after it happen, as I didn’t visit this site often, I noticed she had poked me. I liked this, too. I never responded, I just like seeing it there, whenever I visited this place, over all this time. She knows more photographers than I do. She knows more about the photographers I sometimes secretly wish I was than I do, too. She’s been on more sets than I ever will. She knows legends, like you and I cannot or ever will. All because she does what she does, very well. All the sudden, a year and half later after this party, I had a thought: I really miss New York City, I really want to go to the opera again and I really want to go, with her. We had not spoken since this party. So I went to the site I didn’t want to and I wrote her, I asked her, I told her the short story of this old poke. Shortly there after, she agreed, in fact, she, “Happily accepted.” So long as her work didn’t take her far away again and she also told me, “Most flattering message ever.” I told her this note of hers made me blush, again.

I didn’t tell her this was the real why I was coming to New York City. I pretended I was there to see the city. I pretended I was there to meet the clients. I pretended I was there to see what it felt like to return after all my time away and the friends of mine I saw there all really knew, the real why without it being said. But all that I could know without visiting and I was right, all that was just what I thought, but I was here, I was returning for just one thing. I was here for a night like only New York City offers. I was here, for this date, with her. I bought my plane ticket, I bought us opera tickets and the dates worked, it was time to go.

I liked this.

I hadn’t heard her voice since that summer night so long ago. I didn’t want to either, not until I could see her face with it. We slowly started texting as the night grew closer. She asked me what colors I would be wearing and I told her. We would be matching, we would be dressed as we should, for a night just like this. I arrived early, very early. I walked in circles all around this famous place. It was the coldest night of the year here and I couldn’t feel my hands as I looked at things with my machine. We started texting more frequently as that curtain time drew near. She was almost on her way. She asked me if I would remember her, I told her through the pain of my cold fingers, almost unable to type, “Yes.” I kept walking in circles. It was still an hour to curtain.

I could feel she was close. I put my machine away and went inside, my useless, painfully cold hands jammed into my pockets. I thought that if I were to touch her with them in a hello, I did not want them cold. If we were to touch hello, I wanted it warm and pleasant for her. I saw her through the glass in a door of circles, I think I saw her before she saw me but I don’t know. I remember smiling and seeing her do the same. I remember almost nothing else in this moment other than that I was happy she was here. I was happy she showed up.  I was happy she was my date and that I no longer felt any cold.

I liked this.

I checked our coats. I bought us wine to eat and I bought us cookies to drink. We stood there in this building draped in red telling each other stories about how we maybe ended up here together this night and what we both do in our time when not here. Everyone else was taking their seats but we kept talking. She asked me if she could have a print of mine someday, I told her, “Any.” The lights flickered and we found our seats, almost against that curtain that finally rose once we sat. She sat right near the rail and I sat just to her right and slightly behind her. I couldn’t see the stage so well but I didn’t really want to, she was here, they were about to sing to me, I had everything I wanted this night.

I liked this.

I sat there in the dark, listening, daydreaming, nightdreaming, my eyes open, my eyes closed, listening more, staring at this, staring at that and yes, staring at her. Every so often, she would fidget in her seat and toss her hair. I would toss it back, just so she’d turn and look back at me. I liked this but I don’t think she did, so I stopped. During the intermissions the lights would arise and we would look around at everyone else, looking around and at one another. Everyone was beautiful from up here in this inside warm sky.

I let her catch me staring at her leg. I reached out and moved her dress just so, making sure the skin of my thumb ran across and could feel the texture of her hose. It was beautiful, it felt beautiful and she let me take a photograph of this, it looks beautiful too.

For a year and half I had watched her take photographs of herself and then share them with me, everyone. Now here we were, here I was, next to her, in this specific place. She was holding my machine, she out stretched her arm and with my machine, she took her own photograph.

I liked this.

We bundled back up and braved the frigid air to find a place to share a meal. It was now somehow even colder outside than it was before. I hailed us a chariot. I told her, “Anywhere.” She chose her favorite. It was in her neighborhood. It was two blocks from her apartment. As happenstance would have it, it was my old neighborhood. It was on my old block. It was feet, feet from my door of 13 years and for many of these years, it was our neighborhood, at least until I had left it. While we ate, while we told each other stories, I thought that if I could erase these walls, drill a hole through these walls, stick my arm through these walls, right where I was now sitting, here this night, less than 25 feet from where I sat for those 13 years, dreaming of telling stories just like this one… If I could just reach that old me still sitting there, I would tell him:

“Don’t leave.”

I hailed her a chariot as she requested, it was too late, it was too cold and her heels too high to be walking those two long long blocks to her home. I stood there in that New York City slush in the middle of the street and watched her go down that street in that yellow chariot, down my street, already remembering what her hair felt like brushing against me as we embraced good night.

Then I stood under my tree, the one tree in front of my door I have hundreds of photographs of and I photographed it again, I don’t know why. It was snowing again. I turned around and stood in my doorway that is no longer mine. I stared at my name, still on the buzzer now without me really there. I wanted to try the door, I know how to open it without the key, but I didn’t. I turned around and then I made the left I made thousands of times out of the doorway to the end of the block. Then I made the left I made thousands of times down the next the block. Then I photographed that lock I photographed hundreds of times. Then I crossed the avenue I have crossed thousands of times. Then I crossed the street I crossed thousands of times. Then I made the left down the block I made thousands of times. Then I made the right down Broadway I made thousands of times. Then I waited for the train I waited for thousands of times. Then I sat on the train I sat on thousands of times.

Then I thought to myself, my date was the most beautiful woman at the opera and we don’t know anything about each other, but we were both still there.

I thought these things because they were both true.

I liked this, but I never want to go to an opera again.

She never told me which print of mine she wanted & I cannot go back to my home, even when I want to.

This Night 365 Nights Ago

People have told me time heals all wounds thousands of times but I think they are liars because I still feel everything, I ever did.

Hole Place Of Covet

i like to tell stories | twelve | see #12

i like to tell stories | #1 – #12

Please Press Play & Watch All 311 Seconds

 
 
- – -
 

The first time I was here, I didn’t know where I was, it was just a green place on the map, along the way and close to where I was already going.

It felt like an emergency, so I wanted to call 911:

What is your emergency?

She never told me she was married, even when I asked her directly. I think she was married before I met her!

Sir, that is not illegal.

The second time I was here, I didn’t know where I was, I was just told it was close. So I left a gift here at the base of a castrated tree.

It felt like an emergency, so I wanted to call 911:

What is your emergency?

After hundreds of thousands of words, after thousands of photographs, after knowing her all the ways a man can, after so much, more…

She gave me a fake address!

Sir, that is not illegal.

The third time I was here, I didn’t know where I was, I was just told it was close. I retrieved the gift unwanted, I didn’t want to litter.

It felt like an emergency, so I wanted to call 911:

What is your emergency?

She is rewriting all my love letters, for all her others, over and over and over, no matter how much I beg her stop!

Sir, that is not illegal.

The fourth time I was here, I knew exactly where I was. I had been here in the morning, I had been here in the afternoon, I had been here when the air is filled with sunshine and I had been here when the air is filled with rain. There was always only one sun in the sky, each of these first three times. Now I knew better. As here, in this real place on earth, only in the dark, one can see this place is actually lit with more suns in the sky than one can count or should look up and ever see, at any one time. This is the time, I finally learned to see, what is created here under that single sun, isn’t really what I was being shown, told, allowed and led to believe from the beginning…

Belief is all I ever sought here.

- – -

I had come all this way this fourth time to make just my specific four here in all that darkness I know how to make look like brightness. I finished and returned to my chariot left where I always leave it here. It was late and it was still dark, very. I was putting away my tools when a chariot came towards me around the bend and down the slight rise in the road. There hadn’t been any others and now I was being blinded by two beams of light from this specific one. I looked right at them and they must have looked right at me. This moving chariot now slowed when it saw me, abruptly so. This chariot crawled by then sped up and away after passing. I saw no one inside it in all that blinding dark but the master of this machine had seen me and known me by sight, of this I have no doubts… Was it you in a ride of new, was it the secret husband in his, was it a public partner of work and or love in hers, was it just another other anything, was it just another nothing? I know I’ll never know, just like you always wanted.

Silver Fahrvergnügen BV1

&

111 Seen In White Oak

150 pages – 111 Photographs – 25 Transcripts – 2 Maps – 1/1000 Limited Edition Tinker Bell “The Happiest Place On Earth” Commemorative Pin

Inscribed & Signed White Oak Book With Custom Constructed & Sealed White Oak Wood Containment

* – $0

* – in January 2012, This Special Edition 1/1 White Oak was placed, where it was made, right here:

Latitude: 29°46’52.82″N & Longitude: 95°22’30.45″W

Planted by an alive picture man on his birthday.

Told for a dead picture man on his birthday, 14 January 1928.

Vobis Eadem

 

 
Dies Lunae XI Julius MMXI – V
 
Annos Postquam Annos Postquam Annos Postquam Annos* Postquam Annos

* – IV Forthcoming

 



 
Please Press Play
 

Gratias Agimus Tibi & Tactus Numero Quinque

- – -

After

During

Before

- – -

- – -

A 2 Hour Rapture That Will Never Stop Giving
 

21 May 2011

May 21 [2011] would be the date of the Rapture and the day of judgment, “Beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

It would occur at 6 p.m. local time, with the rapture sweeping the globe time zone by time zone.

That word is “red.”
R-E-D.
Say the word.
 
( @ 2:30 )
 

This Man, This Place Where Ideas Come From, Just Died, He Did This In Houston

48 Hours Before He Passed, A Woman I Spent The Almost End Of The World With, Told Me Something I Didn’t See Coming, But Should Have

Please Press Play

- – -

Martha’s Bells

Great, Grand, Daughter

Same State, Same City, Same Ballet, Same Hotel, Different Room, Different Skin, Different Time

SCAR

]]> http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2011/12/13/sscaamre/feed/ 0 http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2011/12/11/7-december-2011/ http://www.iliketotellstories.com/2011/12/11/7-december-2011/#comments Sun, 11 Dec 2011 09:00:43 +0000 jonathan http://www.iliketotellstories.com/?p=16492
 
703 Days Before I Knew
 

 
393 Days Before I Knew
 

 
Fly Little Man Fly, I Didn’t See You Coming
 

 
I Made 4000+ Of You, You Made Less Than 10 Of Me
This Is Me Inside Of You
 
You Made By Me & Me Made By You

- – -

April/May 2010:

3rd, 1st, 1st, 2nd, 4th – A & AA Class, Texas

- – -

After June 2010, I only competed in one more registered competition:

October 2010 128th Place, AA Class, National Championships | October 2009 4th Place, A Class, National Championships
 

 
I Cannot Tell The Difference Between The Blue Of Your Eyes, That Blue Wall Or That Blue Sky

You Both Brought Your Favorite Dress For Me

I Don’t Really Know You Or You & You Don’t Know Each Other

329 Days & ONE ONE ONE (111) ZERO Miles (111+0) Separate You

One Of You Brought A Yellow Dress & The Other Of You Brought A Blue Dress

Chance Would Have It, The Same Dress

Dies Lunae XI Julius MMXI

- – -

touch to own touchable

This Day 348

 


 
- – -
 

15 Years

This Is Me Not Looking

14 Years, 4 Months

I Want Your Beautiful

20 Years, 2 Months

OTLMBS

J J L E A C

Я не слышу и я не могу дотронуться то что я могу только читать и не вижу в плоть

 

A Father I Met & A Mother & A Mother I Have Not Must Heal

SUBJECT:

Re: I like you swore eternal love, and left, as can that be?

BODY:

Hi – do you remember how we made love in your car? Mmm like it was perfect – the stars, moon, sky – and the lights of the city, here in Russia that does not happen again, I want you to come if you do not mind, write me!

1/12

4/12

6/12

8/12

9/12

Today

Los Angeles