blank music

Time for a Coffee Break

“Continue Pouring Until Pouring is No Longer an Option”

  1. Sam Kalda
  2. Dunken K. Blithe from Your Coffee Guru on Tumblr
  3. Found on We Have Your Beard on Tumblr
  4. Found on Doll Meat on Tumblr
  5. Maori Sakai
  6. Found on Stupid Teletubbie on Tumblr
  7. Blank Papyrus

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MAJORS

I’ve been at this for a year and a half. I don’t think my roommate came back from that drinking binge all those months ago, or if he has, I sure as hell didn’t notice. Either way, I don’t think they’d want to, given all the paper I have tacked about.

I came here to study biology, biology of all things! What foolishness I partook in, thinking that I would be content with all of that. The paints and brushes and pencils and ink and paper all disagree. All that time I spent putting my efforts into a “respectable” field just to satisfy my family. Too late I found myself in the dark halls, pencil and paper in hand as I tried in vain to put what I saw onto paper, instead of what was there. Too long, I found myself watching as the crows flew overhead in the evenings (I swear, they really are nice, even if Matilda Oh-So-Pretty-Bitch doesn’t think so. Damn chem majors.). Too long, I found myself looking for the shadows, backing off before I breached any sort of respectful distance.

The walls are covered in paper. Everyone else I bring over thinks that they’re blank, but I know better. I left them all outside my windows at night. If I am feeling up to it, I’ll turn down the music (one can only listen to Powerslave and Kill ‘em All so many times in a week) and extend an extra something out the door as do all the others, and clean up the salt a little. I don’t think everyone who wants my art lives in the dorm, or at the University at all, but I don’t care. I get my practice, they get their art, and I stay in their good graces.

I don’t see things the same. Color moves, shades and shapes shift and change when I look at them. One girl looked at me with eyes that were too unusual, fingers just slightly longer than they should have been. I mentioned this to a patron and I haven’t seen her since.

Sometimes I’ll leave whatever I’ve drawn out near the back of that 24-hour diner, and when I get back to the room, there will be an extra set of paints waiting, a few mason jars for mixing, and I know how to use it all.

I never touched paints before I got to Elsewhere.

All things considered, I think I’m going to have to switch majors.

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