#his notebook

[statisticalbread]

i watch the graceland pilot yelling with tears streaming down my face as paul throws away mike’s special little notebook

[peter--parks]

There once was a line neither crooked, nor straight and by definition a line is the length of a mark. But over time people forgot that and everyone figured that a line was much like a dash, or a hyphen. Or even a piece of string or a noodle. So this line— neither crooked, nor straight— felt dejected by the society he lived in. “I don’t look like him, or her or them.” He would say and mope around all day. Until suddenly, a curl appeared in town and he noticed she looked nothing like all the other lines. No— she was wild and bent in all sorts of mysterious ways, she was the most interesting line he had ever seen. He asked her, “Excuse me miss. What are you?” And she replied? “I’m a line.” Confused, the line neither crooked, nor straight said, “You can’t possibly be a line. You’re not straight!” And you know what she replied? She replied, “A line is a length of a mark, we are neither tall nor short, nor curled or crinkled. We are not big, we are not little, neither straight nor crooked.” Still confused, he asked. “Then what am I?” To which she replied with a very warm smile. “You’re a line, neither crooked nor straight.”

P. Parks