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Shorts

by Long Long Long

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1.
Sometimes the burden wins in the end. Some people are friends who should never be friends when the weather warms up. (And the winter gives in to its cravings for various colors). I know the weather girls are lying when they say: "Its never going to be as hot as this again", but I can nearly buy it in the afternoon when i have got a new supply of medicine. (The sort that you get from somebody's kid on the street). Summer surprised us. It came surreptitiously, like a woman from Maine breaking into your basement and making your dog learn the sound of her name (and then stealing your copy of 'Teenage Cavegirl' and selling it at night beneath an overpass). Lately we've been trying to imitate the grass: swallowing the sun all day and getting high. It feels like the air is just a lukewarm bath and we're making our way (to nowhere at all) through the heat. I heard what he said, but his words were a lie. They were likely brought on by the heat and by the way that the sun huddles up to the night... It makes we want to bury my mind in the weekend. Some people are friends who should never be friends but they are...
2.
The Mennonite men that we met when the summer began are gone. I saw them talking in conspiratorial tones and then I saw them boarding their royal blue van. Now the street feels abandoned again. I can handle it for most of the day when the neon sun sits high and sharp in the folds of the faded yellow sky. But it gets to me at night. I try not to think about it. And I don't really have to, because there's a flood on the way. you can tell by the number of grief stricken looks that the girls around here give to criminals like us. They're afraid to believe in a thing like relief (with good reason), but they aren't your average omnivorous women: they spend most of the day composing villanelles about Anthony Lane. They know his name so well. I try not to think about it and I usually succeed.
3.
I think I felt it back there...but only for a minute. If I even felt it at all... There was a thickness that hung in the air but now its thinning. Everything is opening up. The Wind is willowy and pale as it slides across the buildings; gliding like a hospital ship. Yesterday I saw the nails that hold everything together. They were starting to loosen their grip. And now the air tastes like tar. It lingers on our faces and gathers in our good weather clothes. When I got in the car I thought that we had made it. It thought we were at least getting close. But now I see your uncle and his friends circling the building. They're looking for a way to get in. I called the cops, they're on their way. And I don't want to kill him, but... I won't let him win.
4.
You've got a lot on your mind. I hear that you don't even listen to music anymore and just packing your suitcase makes you angry and violent. Women love a man who knows his casual wear from his workout clothes, his mandarin collars from the souls of his clients. But who could foresee how many things would be hidden inside your coat. You're living for free at least three nights a trip because of the shit you wrote. So well equipped and so alive but so alone. Keep lighting those books on fire. Keep wearing those yellow ties. I've become a believer: the color of marketing can lead to salvation. But Joel, do your wife and children know about Troy and the videos that you make in your hotel room? (It's a difficult situation.) In any case. It hardly matters, because It's not about being liked. No! Its about being respected. Its not about being liked. No! Its about being respected. Its about being ResSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS pecCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC ted.DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

credits

released June 10, 2010

Thanks to Mitchell Wiebe
We are contactable at : longlonglonggg@gmail.com

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