blink
lauren amorese
THOUGHT
Everybody thinks. What I thought an hour ago was that I’ve never drawn with charcoal.This thought made me scared.
hunched o stature any t kitchen cabin bulge and pr over the tab
REGRET
way violent t stomach s had happe else I’d con stopped tabl
I sat over at the kitchen table. My usual time of the day. I had just devoured the contents of an entire wing of nets. I was so full I felt my stomach growing larger and larger. Like dough rising I saw it rotrude with every second that whooshed past. In no time it was so largeit tipped me forward off my feet knocking ble. I rose toward the ceiling, balancing atop my growing belly. I felt my back hit the ceiling. Soon it was pressed up against it. The pressure intensified and everything began to rumble. I was thankful for my large stomach to hold me safely in place against the ground and the ceiling. The rumbling gave
to thrashing and I felt my sloshing and mixing like a blender. Maybe I had eaten one. It ened before. I felt the blades begin to spin inside me as they grinded up everything nsumed today. As it all began to puree my stomach shrunk. It continued to shrink as the room its thrashing. Soon my stomach was back to normal size. I was returned to my feet. I seated myself at the le again. My mom came in the room and set a hamburger in front of me. She left. I looked around. I ate it.
ISOLATION VS. SOLITUDE
I remember when I went to Spain I stayed with a host family for a week. I only spoke and heard Spanish. I was even thinking in Spanish. It made me so tired that I would fake siestas (short naps after lunch) so that I could just be by myself and not have to think. There was a point when I started to feel really homesick. I think my disability to not be able to just talk freely and have a complete grasp on every situation made me feel lonely and a little isolated. So I preferred to just be lonely by myself in solitude. Halfway through the week I realized I was only going to be with this family in Spain for another 3 days and that I should soak up as much of the experience as I could. I didn’t take another siesta. I had the time of my life. I like this story because it seems ironic to be lonely with a group of people. Impossible even. But its not.
MY PLAYHOUSE IS UNDERNEATH OUR HOUSE, AND I HEAR PEOPLE TELLING EACH OTHER SECRETS. -Komunyakaa
THOUGHTS ARE THE SHADOWS OF OUR FEELINGSALWAYS DARKER, EMPTIER, AND SIMPLER. -Nietzche
ts
gh u o Th
ar en ’t al w
ay s
sim pl er
th an fee lin gs.
I BELIEVE THAT ALMOST ALL OUR SADNESSES ARE MOMENTS OF TENSION THAT WE FIND PARALYZING BECAUSE WE NO LONGER HEAR OUR SURPRISED FEELINGS LIVE. -Rilke
af
t n’
as
Iw
t
Bu
d. go er
M
y
to
es
st
re
tc he
d
I
k
n hi
tt
n’
d di
s hi
t
y da
ld
ou
w
e.
c
ey
tm
M
y
e fe
d
te
el
to
in
t
he
gr
ou
nd
h .T
m
a
de
d pu
ed
un
er
til
d on
he
t if
t es
r
of
ew
u es
am
ss
i th
d un
m
Iw
ea
ch
ph
al
an
ge w
as
lo
ng er
th
an
th
os
ei
n
m y
fi n ge r
s.
.
ed
n oi
j on
sc
e dl
ld
ou
om
im
bl
i ra
n.
io
at
to
y m
es lv
ca
Gr
ea
tt
re
e
tr
un
ks
su
bm
er ge d
in
a
la
ke .
ANTICIPATION: “IN DRAWING, THE TRACE ALWAYS PROCEEDS IN THE NIGHT: IT ALWAYS ESCAPES THE FIELD OF VISION.” -Calvino
I hovered my brush above the paper and let the water color drip off the bristles. The drips rained down in every color and grew in intensity. Before long I had to clamp onto the brush with both hands because the flow from the bristles was so strong. All of the sudden the torrent ended and I looked down. The colors were navigating the crayon mazes on the paper. I watched, unable to anticipate their next moves. Great waves of green swirled, slowing when the met stippled brown walls and floods of purple inundated the yellows and oranges mixing in the sky.
FLEAS INTEREST ME SO MUCH THAT I LET THEM BITE ME FOR HOURS. THEY ARE PERFECT, ANCIENT, SANSKRIT, MACHINES THAT ADMIT OF NO APPEAL. THEY DO NOT BITE TO EAT, THEY BITE ONLY TO JUMP; THEY ARE THE DANCERS OF THE CELESTIAL SPHERE, DELICATE ACROBATS IN THE SOFTEST AND MOST PROFOUND CIRCUS; LET THEM GALLOP ON MY SKIN, DIVULGE THEIR EMOTIONS, BUT SOMEONE SHOULD INTRODUCE THEM TO ME I WANT TO KNOW THEM CLOSELY, I WANT TO KNOW WHAT TO RELY ON. -Neruda
I remember when I went to Spain I stayed with a host family for a week. I only spoke and heard Spanish. I was even thinking in Spanish. It made me so tired that I would fake siestas (short naps after lunch) so that I could just be by myself and not have to think. There was a point when I stated to feel really homesick. I think my disability to not be able to just talk freely and have a complete grasp on every situation made me feel lonely and a little isolated. So I preferred to just be lonely by myself in solitude. Halfway through the week I realized I was only going to be with this family in Spain for another 3 days and that I should soak up as much of the experience as I could. I didn’t take another siesta. I had the time of my life. I like this story because it seems ironic to be lonely with a group of people. Impossible even. But its not.
SUBLIME. THE BEAUTIFUL, ACCORDING TO EDMUND BURKE, IS WHAT IS WELL FORMED AND AESTHETICALLY PLEASING, WHEREAS THE SUBLIME IS WHAT HAS THE POWER TO COMPEL AND DESTROY US.
Iw
ou ld
. like to eat this
AMPLIFIED
I’m trying to think of something thoughtful to say. I’m squinting my eyes to help me think. I’m jiggling my leg to increase my concentration. I’m pretending to write so that maybe the ink will transcend the gap to my paper, splashing down onto it, forging meaningless paths that will become writing gems. Whats the prompt again? I have an arm cramp. Maybe I will write a short magical realism piece. I wish my cursive was better. Creo que ese poema es repugnante. I wonder if that made sense... I haven’t taken Spanish for a year. I was thinking about books I used to like the other day. I remember a book about a house in the country. The country turns into a city all around the house. Its actually a pretty sad children’s book. I think I’m rambling. I make too many connections that connect to one idea and not the others. For example: When I think of solitude I think of solitary confinement and spider solitaire.