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LiveJournal for Kyle Key.

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Saturday, June 4th, 2005

Subject:'Another|dusted photograph for y(ou)r scrapbook.
Time:12:36 pm.
"Rain is only a problem if you don't want to get wet." 21 person said, "I like to get wet."people said, "I like to get wet."

Tuesday, March 8th, 2005

Time:12:34 am.
... and she kept talking in that cute:little:accentual voice; the actress In her practically leaping out, trying her hardest to be philosophic__and,well, it works. There was (an) urgency in the subtle movements of her body language-not unlike a child lost in the women's clothing department at the shopping mall|desperatelyfilled with hope that a familiar set of ankles will be around the next rack. she let|her thoughts escape::"when you really think about it_:time doesn't exist. the past Is no longer here so it isn't real-and the future has yet to come._making it nonexistent. that just Leaves the present,and it's immeasureable._which means that there's no such thing as time". he looked over at her|confoundedly and listened to himself say:"so does that mean that (we'll be.)together forever?"
"Rain is only a problem if you don't want to get wet." 12 person said, "I like to get wet."people said, "I like to get wet."

Monday, June 7th, 2004

Subject:I can't wait to see you again.
Time:5:58 pm.
an inviting warmth from the blanket ... or the comfort of being held—of pressing flesh against flesh; of intertwined appendages—seemed to usher in sleep more hastily than time or tiredness or the absence of any light save a faint glow from the television. her eyes had warred gravity for hourlong years. and finally, fatigue set in. the surrender came peacefully. lapses in the ceasefire were occasional though infrequent as unsettling sounds and movements and breaths made her aware of being awake. but the strangely both joyful and sorrowful song played looping in the background erased most thought, making a return to rest that much easier. he didn't seem to mind being the only conscious body in the house.


the air conditioner's slow, droning hum foreshadowed the way that her legs would pull in closer—the way that he would watch the muscles behind her eyebrows squeeze together; he knew that she was cold before her body did. the glow from the television never faded or dimmed or flickered. it was a perpetual torch that guided the movement of his hands ... to carefully drape a blanket, to drink warm water from a dew-drop glass, to fix her hair. she wouldn't remember any of it and he was fine with that. for both of them, the world no longer existed.


"I'm gonna go get some more water"—every spoken word was a whisper now. she mumbled out a patient "...okay" and felt the couch cushions retake their original shape with half of the weight removed. over creaks from the staircase he could still hear music playing. the second story was a different house. lights were on, the air had less of a chill, but mainly, his thoughts kept a reminder in place that, up here, he was alone. and the bathroom mirror was a worse portrait than he would have liked painted—colors bleeding and misshapen figures—but it didn't matter. he marked out the mouth and redrew a smile. the kitchen utencils and cupboards and dirty dishes watched as a trail of milk carved its way through a valley of artificial chocolate and sugar, till the plastic prison it occupied allowed no further movement. ten feet below, she had given herself to dreams.


the carpet fibers folded and pinned themselves against a hidden layer of concrete under the form of his kneeling body. their ears had grown accustomed and they no longer heard the music. if she had any idea that her chest and stomach were bathed in his arms, she didn't show it. at random intervals an inaudible murmur would escape her lips, but he only responded to the select few that could be made out. "why ... are the birds chirping? ...what time is it?" slowly. "it's three a.m.; maybe they couldn't sleep." and she was gone again.


her back arched and his left and right hands slid respectively underneath her shoulders and knees. steady. "wrap your arms around my neck"—it overpowered the silence—and without thinking, she did. he walked sideways ... through the narrow hallways ... around the corner ... each foot placed down with deliberate care. the light grew darker before it became bright. it wasn't a perfect and effortless experience as it is in the movies; every muscle stretched out the skin surrounding it and strained for release as he scaled the staircase step after step. the wall scraped her right elbow a handful of times yet she didn't flinch or seem to feel a thing except the pressing of flesh against flesh ... their intertwined appendages. living room shadows slowdanced together with only a soundtrack of foottaps on hardwood to keep pace. the sheets had been pulled back some forgettable amount of time beforehand and what little strength remained was given to laying her down on the bed. she squirmed in the familiarity of its softness. he threw himself to the mattress and pulled her into his chest and savoured the rise-collapse cycle of each breath entering workworn lungs. his body had now known ache.


manufactured light filtered through dozens of red diodes and displayed "4:01am" on the alarm clock a few feet away. he kissed her relaxed lips and forehead; "...goodnight"; and then worked the maze backward, toward to the entrance, resetting floor lamps and cereal spoons and movie boxes to where they belonged. the television's glow ceased. streetlights shed their best impression of sunrise into the house through textured glass. he locked the door before it shut and felt the grass sway for his fingers. the engine started; as it held the curved asphalt for guidance and carried him home, lanterns above the road seemed to turn into fireflies and meld with the stars. he smiled and he knew ... this was life.
"Rain is only a problem if you don't want to get wet." 19 person said, "I like to get wet."people said, "I like to get wet."

Tuesday, October 7th, 2003

Subject:I know I should tell you, but I can't bring myself to do it; I hope that you'll stay.(newest "poem")
Time:7:02 pm.
I can imagine bumping into a girl._at an elevator, or a movie-rental shop,or the fiction segment of a book store ::: smiling. And thinking for a few seconds after: :"did that mean something?? what if it meant something? what if i'll never know?" And thinking: :"i've stared with an open mouth as my life walked away before --- if this is the new me then i'd love for you to stay a while."turning ::: He asked her name and would've believed it had she whispered "Beautiful." And their eyes._darting over shelves ,pretending to be interested in the contents --- corners of their vision had images of each other. She was smart._and she was funny,, And she cared. And it was set in their minds and in their hearts and in stone that this boy would see this girl again ::: she spent every minute waiting for next weekend to come.

_he whispered her name --- she would've believed it had he said "I'm too good to be true." Smiling; before he clutched her hand, ,and replied: :"just breathe... I|love|you;" crying, she clutched his hand and thought: :"i lost my life long ago. in these last few months You've made me breathe." she touched his lips --- let go of everything._he spent every day waiting for the wedding.

She looked up at the stage._and ,barely audible above the clapping, remarked "she's so beautiful."as the applause died, he leaned over and stared at her graying hair, her wrinkled face, her sagging eyes, and told her "well, she always did take after her mother." ::: he meant it. Through the joy,they were filled with concern. they choked back sadness and struggled to keep the conversation going. She broke the silence: :"Now that she's graduated, the house is gonna be a lot emptier." --- they struggled to keep the conversation going._but he asked: :"do you remember the day We met?" The answer came back a curious and surprised "of course!" he continued ::: "I almost lost your telephone number that evening...and I almost stopped looking. five extra minutes of searching has given me forty years with you. I'm glad I looked under the phone book."


she knelt at his grave. There was no crying --- she had done that in an empty bed the past three star-less nights. no, she was sad._but calm,and accepting; she spoke out-loud: :"I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss the 'good morning' kisses and the softness of your hand and the sound of your voice as I'm going to sleep. And I bet, even now, you'd be smiling and making jokes; asking with a laugh, 'what's that silly girl doing on the ground? she'll get her nice dress all dirty!' Well, I just wanted to tell you one last time -- I love you. I know why I was meant to breathe." she put a small white envelope beside him, before she turned to walk away ::: the letter inside, neatly typed and folded, read simply, "Thank you for looking underneath the phone book."
"Rain is only a problem if you don't want to get wet." 98 person said, "I like to get wet."people said, "I like to get wet."

Tuesday, August 19th, 2003

Time:11:26 pm.
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"Rain is only a problem if you don't want to get wet." 19 person said, "I like to get wet."people said, "I like to get wet."

LiveJournal for Kyle Key.

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