Various OneLiners (and other short offerings) by Chris 444 Lockhart, since the day of birth (April 7, 1132)
everything anyone writes contains an autobiographical strain.
she drives like a passenger on a plane, impatient yet complacent.
he has a walk like a yoyo. a lot of up and down movement, but not really going much of anywhere. still, i get the impression he is going around the world.
my last girlfriend said i was in a transitional period as far as my writing is concerned. i haven't changed.
it is not raining, so his umbrella is closed and bound. he weilds it like a clubbing weapon, daring the sky to rain.
there's enough corrupt people in the world that i need to avoid convention.
there's a rainbow on yr forehead and a feather pillow in yr bed.
can you sell a book of innocence? for i feel mine is sold.
don't you ever wonder what happens to the ones you hurt?
my eyeliner is a liner note.
boodadalumplump
there's nothing wrong with me except that i wish there was.
it's just you and i; nobody matters, my love.
each human soul is a spark of the grand fire, a star in the sky, an innoticable, but necessary, bump on the moebius strip.
a sadfaced boy in an OU marching band jacket and a Notre Dame ballcap walks by. he as that dejected look like he went out to find something to do and goes home having found nothing.
we be and read everyone.
all i ever do is have a nicotine fit 24 hours a day.
close piercing repetition crack open the seed to kill the pain that i need squeeze me until i bleed.
when i am near you, you get so far away.
luke! john! where is yr mama?
greentea with milk and honey is a form of ambrosia.
