trillonious monk: Archive

trillonious monk

July 2011

2 posts

NO MONEY, MO' PROBLEMS.

biggie got it wrong.

Lately I have been avoiding topics like, How have you been doing, and Jesus Christ where are you these days? It seems to me a great ordeal, the whole talking thing. Probably because there is such a thing as sensory overload, and my senses, frankly, are on overload. The act of talking, of moving one’s vocal chords, of producing audible sounds that render words that render meaning that render speech...

June 2011

7 posts

You can move across the continent. Across the Atlantic. You can spend money, and money can spend you thin. You can plan for two years and crumple it in a wastebasket. You can eat some humble pie, bigger bites the better. You can miss payments. You can defer loans. You can buy cheap grade shampoo because it is all the same. You can pack light, lighter than before. You can serialize Good...

I always try to write about you, but all my questions have been answered. Love is supposed to be reserved for everything contrary to fact. Because it is cryptic. And it is taut. I would just be spewing out facts. Facts and facts and facts. With you, for instance, it was never some grandiose moment. Some over-arching, big worded adjective after adjective epiphany. No, it was just the settling...

One time I had this party, and not the let’s get drunk kind of party, although those aren’t half bad if you ask me. But I had this party, and it was Girls Only. We didn’t post a sign outside my front door, the kind you’d expect for exclusive club membership. Something serious like felt tip pens or even permanent markers. No, my kind of party was even more obscure. Personal invites only. From my...

Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit Bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit Bullshit bullshit bullshit important epiphany bullshit bullshit Bullshit...

I’m trying this new thing out. It’s called Silence. The first time I heard about Silence is when they told me about it in the pews. You were supposed to be Silent in the pews because Silence was how you respected the other people in the pews. Also, the man on the cross. It was difficult practicing Silence because there was so much to say about my immediate surroundings. I wanted to tell the woman...

May 2011

2 posts

The better half of my pubescent years was spent learning formulas. A squared minus B squared equaled the sum of A plus B times the difference of A and B. This was called the difference of squares. When I learned about circles, their equations differed substantially. There were coordinates involved: Cartesian, polar, parametric. I did not understand the practicality of these applications, but I...

HI, NICE TO MEET YOU (again). I THINK I'M GOING TO...

April 2011

5 posts

i promise i'm alive. probably more than i've ever...

There’s nothing quite like living in your twenties—the world at your feet and enough gut to believe that you are something, that you are a remarkable human being. I sometimes wonder if I ever cared this much about not caring at all. But America tells me that I should be all I can be and I will be what I want to be which of course is the best I can be. The entire team of soccer moms has already...

I got new specs and I feel good about myself and I can see blemishes on people’s faces on the street and in the tube but that’s okay because now I know that this woman has freckles and this man has wrinkles and we’ve all got something on our faces that we probably notice more than anyone else and despite our vast and varied differences we’re really all the same you know and...

I will refrain from drunk blogging.

March 2011

22 posts

Today I forgot my laptop on the tube. Which doesn’t seem so bad when you type and read the words written there, cursor blinking silently on the screen. But when you actually live the horror of having left your drafted Master’s thesis and a year’s worth of research and notes on that single fucking 15” Hewlett-Packard PC, that realization alone is enough to make you go...

Anonymous asked: Who are you in love with? As one of your male followers I'm curious as to your type, and a little jealous ;)

Conversations with Myself

This is the part where I tell you to let your preconceived notions go to hell. Because you are twenty-three and you are in London and you are in love and you are a healthy-bodied woman with lots of prospects, and you are clever, my god you are smart, I mean you’re not genius, but hell, you have got it going on. You’ve failed in small degrees, but you’ve accomplished more than...

A Comprehensive Analysis of Rebecca Black’s Creepy...

While thirteen-year-old pop sensation, Rebecca Black, has already bemused the world with her cringe-worthy song, “Friday,” some people have failed to notice the debut appearance of some no-name rap artist who perhaps deserves more attention than the bubble-gum teenager herself. I mean, I get it. People have got their panties in a wad because some eighth-grader sings horribly written...

When my parents met, my mother was walking down a spiral staircase in a white dress. She was twelve. He was fifteen. She was well-endowed with big breasts and a killer smile. He had feathered hair and a nervous knee. My mother told me that she started developing when she was nine—like some prepubescent freak show of a girl. Now I suppose she’d admit that her curves worked in her favor. My curves,...

deathbedexistentialism asked: What is your favorite word?
What is your least favorite word?
What turns you on?
What turns you off?
What sound or noise do you love?
What sound or noise do you hate?
What is your favorite curse word?
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
What profession would you not like to do?

I Am Not American. Not Right Now.

Today I bit my lip the entire way to class because there were two American girls talking behind me about their weekend escapades. I have always known the stereotypes that circulate the ubiquitous American, that we are dumb, that we inflect all our sentences like questions, that we are obsessed with “like”-ing and “Oh My God”-ing—but for fuck’s sake, when...

Mind the Gap(e)

When taking London’s underground transit, you quickly find that you are becoming a people enthusiast. And by enthusiast I mean to say that you convince yourself (however grossly misleading) that the assumptions you make about these bodies huddled close to you, these bodies swaying as the train car jolts back and forth, are indeed correct. You get a sneaking sense that you know these guys,...

Today I am writing my Master’s thesis for...

My last night in Salamanca was spent in a quaint cafe around the corner from my sister’s apartment. The food was good, as usual. I finished her coffee, as usual. Just the night before, we (or rather I—as the older and thus more mature and responsible sister) patrolled the streets well past midnight shouting obscenities (in Espanol!) at passers-by in the Plaza Mayor. The liquor made a...

THE INCREDIBLY SHORT STORY ABOUT A WOMAN'S TRIP TO...

Tuesday night, a woman went to the store to buy some groceries. She selected her groceries. She purchased her groceries. She walked home. A man was walking the opposite direction. He murmured something to her in passing. She walked faster. When waiting to cross the street, she noticed the man was steadily approaching. He was now running toward her. I am going to die, she thought. She did not die....

February 2011

23 posts

THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT SPAIN

WHAT THEY TELL YOU: Spanish men are very sexually straightforward. WHAT THEY DON´T TELL YOU: Spanish men have the libido equivilent to one thousand and forty five teenaged boys in their pubesecent prime. One can walk around in practically sweats, although this writer would not dare to commit such a fashion monstrosity, and one would still feel like a Sex Goddess. Cat calls, goggling eyes, and...

RECENT FASCINATIONS

-Things to do when you are an insomniac -And by extension, 4:00a-8:00a -A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius -Being poor -Reading on the tube -Taking off one’s petticoat -Blondes -Wall heaters -Capslocks, because it expresses my true emotion -Hashtags, because they express my true emotion -Exclamation points! !!!!!!!! -Opening the window -Black and White ...

A Letter to You Compassionate Souls,

I would very much like to receive a care package while I am here abroad in London, only because if we were to explicate the meaning of ‘care package’ we would find that you, the generous and magnanimous sender, demonstrate your care for me, the recipient. In this case, I, the recipient, am in want of some very essential items to better facilitate my living abroad needs. Items include...

POST-INSOMNIAC THOUGHTS

Why does Facebook deny us the choice to ‘Dislike?’ Have we not founded that expansive Land of the Free on the principle (or illusion, at least) that our most god-given right in this god-forsaken country is to, so help us god, choose? I mean, sometimes you get a comment from that guy slash guy you don’t really know, and he says something like, HEY HOW ARE YOU?, and you’re...

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE TEXT

The author would like to disclose the fact that the earlier parts of her life have been written in scribbled notes in journals and diaries and loose paper alike. But when she was ten years old, she went through her writing and decided that unfinished drafts are no-good drafts, thereby tearing and throwing away the scribbled notes she had accumulated. The result of this rendered her a draft-less,...

Anonymous asked: you should post a gpoyassonawebcam...

Sometimes a sense of purpose greets you in the morning when the goddamn sun shines through the window, and you’ve got an empty apartment and a couch ready and plump. You do the dishes. You water the flowers. But white always looks better tossed, so you skip over making the bed because really, it’s a matter of aesthetics. You know that no one might ever notice these details—hell,...