hitRECord

Released 2010-12-04 16:19:31 -0500

All of my TEXT RECords compiled into one easy to navigate album. :]

I put them in the following order:

Short Stories - starting with "The Horrifically Mundane Life of Sarah Cohn" and ending with "Journey into Magick pt II"

Poetry - starting with "Journey Into Magick" (fits both short story and poetry), and ending with "Go on burning(dAN)"

Prose-Poetry - starting with "February, 2008" and ending with "Sainthood & Mythology"

Miscellaneous - starting with "No Title as Yet Continuation" and ending with "On the Importance of Organs"

and then Tiny Stories.

:]

<3C

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Cassandra Litten

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	My life didn’t become such a mundane affair until Oliver dumped me. We used to go on adventures, Oliver and I. Every day was a new kind of journey – into the woods, into the cinema, int...

	READ 'THE HORRIFICALLY MUNDANE LIFE OF SARAH COHN FIRST!!! http://hitrecord.org/records/228410/ The fifteen months I spent with Sarah were exhilarating. I learned more about her b...

	It wasn't that the winter holidays weren't magical to me anymore -- they absolutely were. The neighborhood lit up as though we had been temporarily relocated into a cluster of stars. The cris...

	Read part one first! http://hitrecord.org/records/267688 I rarely felt nostalgia, though I sometimes did, for things I thought maybe I should be nostalgic for. The lonelin...

	PART ONE: http://hitrecord.org/records/267688 PART TWO: http://hitrecord.org/records/268270 It was December thirteenth when I met Abbey. We spent the evenings ...

	I had a very set routine when it came to showering. I turned the hot water all the way up, and the cold water up just enough so that I didn't get third degree burns. My bills were higher ...

	I can’t count how many times I’ve been to The Merry fuckin’ Toast. Well no, I suppose that’s not entirely true. In the two years I’ve been away at college, I’ve been twelve times; any time before ...

	Melanie: I don't remember the exact date I met Arthur, but it was a Thursday. Or maybe it was a Wednesday. Really, either way, the date doesn't matter. That I remember the events perfect...

	I supposed, perhaps quite foolishly, that this would all be over when I decided I wanted to quit. I'm not sure what gave me that sort of entitlement, but there it was. It was...

	I will propose a preface of a most peculiar kind I knew before I started just what I would find -- A life most extraordinary awaited me out there, magick ‘round every...

	PART ONE: http://hitrecord.org/records/255762 (read first or this won't maaaake any sense!!) We traveled ‘til the sun rose, when we stopped to rest, he held my ...

	We floated through the cool, black paradise of the stars. We kissed underneath the light of the meteorites. We kissed amongst dreaming nebulae. ...

	Lo, the moonshiner sits gulping poison down, balanced on a bar stool, a king in a booze-brewed crown. Lo, the moonshiner sits, empty bottle in h...

	Through our entire lifespan everything reminded me of you and everything felt perfect, because it was you and it was me, and how could it be any less than absolutely p...

	Your overcast eyes were fixed out the window for so long before you gave me a second glance. “The city is dead and ugly, so unappealing.” Fingers curled securel...

	You sit outside and take long drags, letting plumes of smoke escape you, scenting the air with spice that even autumn cannot overwhelm. You used to say "I love y...

	I searched for you in the darkest parts of the city, newborn star in a galaxy of supernovae. There were miles of sidewalk with nowhere to go, before I found you a...

	Je suis du... The pages of gilded storybooks; the very first things that opened my eyes and lulled me to sleep. Doodles in the margins, and every empty spa...

	Before I met you, you couldn't stop drinking. but then I decided I would love you, hung-over and strung-out and you stopped. Before I met you, you gave up chasin...

	we are ghosts of last night. wandering vacant streets, searching for our tombs, peaceful rest. the living creep out of nightly hiding spots, as phantoms wil...

	I wasn't sure of where to go before being led to you. Your seagreen eyes have wreaked havoc on my heart, left imprints in these tributary veins like footsteps in ...

	I remark that I am sad for the change of the weather-- “But look how beautiful,” you object, and you make a bouquet – red, yellow, orange, brittle leaves for me ...

	It’s a thing easily done, living without you. The day to day routine is the simplest of exercises: Waking up in the morning and going to sleep at night. The in-between is a slur of

	This is your life: built with fiery monuments, grown with hope from hearts that are beating with the same intensity; parallel organs protected only ...

	I've been tossing and turning on beds of eggshells for two long weeks, begging for a release from canyons and falling, but getting nothing more than darker waters and fiercer storms. "There is...

	In those days, we saw everything in black and white and gold. Fingers longingly tracing the barrier that we so eloquently built with our tall tales, we ignored the door that was so clearly there; w...

	I. Condemnation I miss the way you said "I'm sorry", cradled in my arms on hot summer rooftops. You would stare at the stars and tell me how the absence of the sun made the sky so much more be...

	My heart is permanently barricaded behind a steadfast cage of bones -- the black and white reality of separation will be all we are left with. But you are rows of streetlights in the darkest p...

	I ambled begrudgingly through alleyways and back roads from bar to bar – they were the quicker but more dangerous route to take. I didn’t care. I had to find her. Five bars I’d been to alrea...

	I read/watched the poem/video expecting to feel a lot — expecting to tear up, or maybe cry; expecting to feel a sadness I can’t completely understand; expecting to feel like I wish I could just giv...

	She stood at the bottom of the folding ladder; her arms wrapped around her torso in an attempt to suppress her anxiety. It was hardly working. The noise began the night before – rickety creaki...

	It was a dreary November morning when I saw him perched on my windowsill. At first sight, I was terrified. His skin was green, stretched taut over his bones. His eyes were large and orange, like th...

	Ignoring our own insignificance to the world, we have become consumed by our significance to each other.

	"Much Less Dancing" - A hitRECord.org Fall Formal Script by Cassandra Litten/Phenomenaaa SCENE: Outdoor dance floor, background shows nothing but sky. It is late evening on a ...