December 20, 2011 • 5 notes • brianomnidillon
brianomnidillon: Officially one week until the launch of my first novel, Eat The Rich.  The release party - at the holy house, the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe - will be followed by a big, sloppy tour of the US, with stops in Chicago, Denver, Los Angeles (twice), Las Vegas (twice), San Diego, New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas.  Please consider scooping up a copy online here. This is the biggest moment of my freaking life. Your support is met with unrepentant gratitude. I cant say enough thank you’s.  I promise my incessant tumblr-blasting will abate after the release party.  If you’re a resident of any of the aforementioned locales, please come see the shows, say hi, and have a drink with me.  love to you all.  -b.omni.d

brianomnidillon:

Officially one week until the launch of my first novel, Eat The Rich. 

The release party - at the holy house, the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe - will be followed by a big, sloppy tour of the US, with stops in Chicago, Denver, Los Angeles (twice), Las Vegas (twice), San Diego, New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas. 

Please consider scooping up a copy online here. This is the biggest moment of my freaking life. Your support is met with unrepentant gratitude. I cant say enough thank you’s. 

I promise my incessant tumblr-blasting will abate after the release party. 

If you’re a resident of any of the aforementioned locales, please come see the shows, say hi, and have a drink with me. 

love to you all. 

-b.omni.d

July 5, 2011 • 54 notes • brianomnidillon

brianomnidillon.com: Untitled

brianomnidillon:

Untitled

It begins, “ This English is not enough”

It ends, “I will live as long as you love me”

Translated loosely, it goes: my language is insufficient. It is a spoon of sand to the flood. My words do not know how to take the things within and drag them through me. My throat is…

January 9, 2011

I only stumble upon pictures of you on bad days. Maybe it’s cause you know I need you.

Pretend to hear your laugh again. take drags from your cigarette. lean onto your shoulder.

I hold your glossy likeness level to my face. They never let me see you this way again. They shaved your blonde tips to a dark brown scalp. Baby skin face Stiff suit. And pictures of you everywhere, cause we all needed you that day.

November 24, 2010

Sometimes musicals do it better…

Not a day goes by, Not a single day But you’re somewhere a part of my life And it looks like you’ll stay. As the days go by, I keep thinking, “When does it end? Where ‘s the day I’ll have started forgetting?” But I just go on Thinking and sweating And cursing and crying And turning and reaching And waking and dying

And no, Not a day goes by, Not a blessed day. But you’re still somewhere part of my life And you won’t go away. So there’s hell to pay. And until I die I’ll die day after day After day after day After day after day After day Till the days go by -S.S.

September 16, 2010

I want…

the old me. Remember her? I don’t.

September 1, 2010

On the third day….

EVERYTHING REMINDS ME OF YOU.

I spend the day, quietly, pensively.

I wonder if you miss me.

…..if you wonder the same thing.

I wish we could just tell each other.

I can see my white flag, whipping through wind, not aimlessly;

But looking for you.

September 1, 2010 • 584 notes • artpixie
(via sierrademulder, artpixie)

(via sierrademulder, artpixie)