#dumb angels

[exitosis-blog]

“Sera’s dumb, pass it on.”

@forgedbyfaith

[poisonnmedaddy]

well turns out you can't fucking trust anyone. not even angels.

[jwthornton]

The Sweetest Fruit is the Sun

Eventually he would have newsstands around the globe, at which point he’d begin purchasing newspapers. He’d publish stories in them about how he and his family had to sleep on the beach, how they had to go without food, how sometimes he looked at people in clean clothes walking up and down sidewalks and want to lie down and let them walk over him, slowly liquefying in the sun, drizzling into dank asphalt cracks.

(I don't know; I think I have to rewrite this chapter pretty heavily in the next draft. It's too demented and too cartoony, although I like this fancy)

[jwthornton]

The Sweetest Fruit is the Sun

The longer you wait, the more likely you are to regret your religious impulses when they come.

[jwthornton]

Attention

The title of my next novel is now officially

THE SWEETEST FRUIT IS THE SUN

until such time as I decide to change it, which will maybe happen, who knows

In like a year or three when I finish it, remember this information to bring to your local bookseller, if that is not an archaic and devalued term in the future, when this book will appear

Thank you all

[rocketdoodles]

he's also transparent for whatever reason;;

[jwthornton]

Dumb Angels

I circled the space first, holding my breath when passing through shadows, reading the comic strips—Calvin and Hobbes, Far Side, sometimes Dilbert or FoxTrot or, in one depressing instance, the Lockhorns—that different workers had put on their cubicles, wondering about the odd cubicles filled with copy machines or file cabinets, discarded coffee cups sometimes still remaining on desks, milk scum sometimes drifting across the surface like a pool float.

[jwthornton]

Dumb Angels

You wish her fireflies would circle around you, too, that your fireflies could breed with her fireflies producing thousands of tiny fireflies with blended color fireworks in their wings. Instead you feel like lightning is going to shoot out of her crotch and burn you to a pair of eyeballs sitting atop a pile of black ash. You feel low down.