i wish i could just

buy things all the time and that my dreams weren't so -
what they are -
i am sad and lonely
even or especially in the presence of others.

motherfucking shit

i missed the farmer's market again and i can't tell the difference between drunk or dream and the distance helps so much (more each day) it's like getting away from the ocean after being sucked under there's only so far inland you can go before you start getting close to the water again

salt water

sea weed

let's go to the ocean and soak in the toxins together.

am sort of existing

while lifetime movie network plays this movie
i thought she was talking to her brother and there was so much crying
"you tore up the apartment and stopped taking your meds"
"i don't know why it happened. i didn't mean to" they start kissing
and so i don't think they're siblings.

there was this romance novel i was reading and this woman had inherited a home and things from her deceased cousin or aunt or some relative who shared her surname. then the son of this person came into town (had been banished off with his father, what a love child). his plan? to offer marriage to the woman and/or simply take the house by force. and then they fall in love. and i was just thinking...aren't they related? ummmm

sometimes

i feel like my life is a series of endurance tests.

Aw shit

my initial impression is that mccain made a pretty foxy move by choosing a woman vp.

of course, she's an example of how all women do not serve my needs as a woman by virtue of being a woman. and why ideology is more important than gender/race/arbitrary means of classification.
still, if we were playing chess, good move.

Three is a strange dynamic

and the door chain and lists and the siding and I never want to again
not even with you
maybe neighbor

such suddenness, such dotting

decisions to be made
time kept
the phone the wind in
the phone the cars
passing

i am not to be held accountable i am not ))

i wish i had a wife and she was pregnant

What I forget

that there's something else behind dissatisfaction
in that I don't give up on everything but only
the portions and then do something about it even

it's better than a line of blood on skin
can you believe? can you conquer? sometimes
i wonder about these mechanisms and then
simple physical activity makes my thoughts align

does something
gets rid of that silent screaming
that pin prick that
maybe you know
to what i refer

buying the books made me better.
as well
i want i want i want
and i love you love you/hope you get that
you beautiful something
you person. the protest is unimportant

isn't life a constant cycle of absence and abundance? a cycle of something-s
for sure. shurefine. good name. good fake names good words.

i have some ways i operate.

Giving up

on the bookstore/USPS. I surrender. I'm headed there myself to pick books like berries. They best all be there. I'd like to dedicate this to whoever made words like areola/clitorus/perineum. I can't pronounce them, but I like to try. I don't think school is teaching me things. I feel like this schedule is my dumbest yet, with few exceptions. It's just that the English classes feel more and more watered down and I don't think I've chosen very well in my life plan. I don't know definitions. Communicating is like using a coffee filter to strain the liquid from yogurt. College was always more a middle-ground for me than any specific catalyst to a life and money. The next step. A place to figure out my life. And now my life is here/coming and I have ideas but the time is sort of ending. Someone should have warned me money's all that matters. Oh matter.

Hey Santa

I sort of want these.
And these.

Would you like to purchase a cake from me? We can trade for the boots and the pants above-mentioned.

This is pretty accurate

though not very pornographic at all.

What's your orgasm record in a day?
(24 hour period we'll define it as)
Anyone?

Japes. I like that.

chair delivery

oh this delicious
the clouds the clOUDSSs listening
to WHY
my hairs are leggy. right? right.

where has my camera gone off to?

I can't write a thing without crying anymore

without sobbing from the depths of my brain or my something
to make up for feeling things and not the right things. THE RIGHT ONE IS RIGHT FOR YOU. I can't get rid of machine parts. These are the things that belong somewhere (and the emphasis is such on belong) they belooong. Unlike a hair, shed. A bitten off nail. Some toothpick. Machine parts are not trash they are someone's lost implement that will be reattached. I will be reattached in my next planned out something. I will attach and reattach myself and eventually learn asexual reproduction. Become anemone or starfish. If only you could always stroke me I'd grow.

So

this is actually a real coffee house. Why the fuck is it so fucking far away? I didn't keep enough of an eye out for bike paths. May I have a sandwich for dinner? (Do I want one?)

Oh banality. I fucking want a fucking shower.

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous! These posts are. Come to Brckck on Saturday. After optional potluck/obligatory drinking. I look forward to both and to all. I look forward to no longer hearing like a robot (?)
I want to see you all of you all of you
all of you!

Did anyone ever go

to the Fontanelle Forest nature center/children's center
with the nest? And giant stuffed snakes and things?
It's not there anymore, in the same way/place--with the same things.

I want to be there right now
in that nest, pretending to hatch
pillow eggs.

Starlite Lounge around 5:15 today for interested parties.

Coffee

is important to my happiness.

I spend a lot

of time at work compulsively biting the skin of my fingers
off. It's a vicious boredom-bred desperation. But boredom
isn't it. It's the not wanting. And not being able to. The frustrating
nature of all of this tediousness and the annoying whine this place is to me. I don't know
what I would want to do but not this. Going running with Cassie
tonight, if all goes as planned. Needing to unpack my room. Needing
to remember to shut the door to my bedroom.

This morning when I got home the chain was hooked so I could unlock
but not enter the apartment. Annoying. I considered trying to slam it off
but instead just called Katie and then ate an egg to calm myself. Those chains
they really do fuck up getting into a place.

Motherfuckers.

What's the deal with writing on shirts? I used to have a t-shirt that said "rated G for gorgeous!" Oh man, those were the days
that I'm embarrassed of. Why not "rated R for rapacious!" you may ask. Or "rated C for cunt!" Or "rated B for this is written on my BOOBS!" Or "rated D for Dike!" "rated F for fuckmyface!" God I've gone onto a whole 'nother rating system while trying to sort this item that really doesn't need sorting. But any thoughts on slogan shirts? Tell your boyfriend thanks? You looked better on Myspace?

Is it an obsession with generically collective witticisms? Is that the fixation? Your Mom. Don't ever text that to someone unless you are prepared for said mom to be DEAD> better, don't text at all, especially when drunk or sleeping or sitting next to bankenbrand.