Friday, May 18, 2007


my arms are tired. why?

im going to start wearing gloves. this whole quitting smoking is ... aaarrr.... frustrating.

my poor fingers.

that tight feeling in the head region. and me with nothing to say.


A day.

By me.

Lying in bed. Upside down and sadly not quite tired. I try to play the air piano with my feet. Im not very coordinated. I talk to the animals. They aren't very responsive/awake. I sing. It's nice when I'm alone and unaware of being so. There's a painting in the corner, leaning and wondering when I'm going to put it up. Waiting. I plan for it to go up up up on the ceiling.

There are days when being home isn't so bad.

……Then there are days when you can't seem to get off the computer so maybe your not really home at all. Just visiting on the interweb all day. In another country….. It could be that way. Oy. I've been here a bit too much.

I go out back. I laugh at the dogs bumbling walk, his jaunty smile. Wrinkled noses, mine and his, and twitching legs. Lovely. Its too hot out now. I go back in. pace. Rooms are empty.

Blaring the music now im dancing and eating cold ravioli out of a can.

Pondering the term bohemian.

Not me.


I'm too fond of showers and shaving.

There's nothing to do but wait when you're in a situation like mine. When your friends/people are telling you that things are going to come together and you simply can't believe them based on past events. There is too much I'm fucking missing. The whole identification situation is killing me. Nobody knows how much it sucks that I can't go to a bar with my friends just to watch a fucking spurs game. Lame. And you know I could be ok with this for a while. But I'm not very patient and it's been too long. What the hell.

There's a mosquito in here. He will be dying in a fucking second.

[I've memorized the basics]

This is the time of thinking where I realize that there's a break in it, it's just passed. There's a moment between. And while I can see light seeping from it, I can't make out the content.

That mosquito bit me. I failed at killing him. Well played sir, well played.

The henna is still staining my skin. It's like a fading memory. I can almost see the sunset again.

To many line breaks not enough said.

I'm a little hard on myself eh?

[I want to go dancing]

[after I get my fucking id]


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