(no subject)
I am a flawed product of the natural machine.
I am less than perfect.
It's not only the inconsistent breakdown of individual components within and without my body, it is also certain things I cannot control and cannot contain.
I wish that I would meet someone less flawed than I.
Someone who's only mistake of breeding is a certain blindness.
One that allows them to stare uselessly through me even though they sense I'm right in front of them.
One who's voice is a deep sound where there is no need for the forming of words, only simple strings of sound that reverberate in my ear and pluck the tender strings of memory in my brain.
One who I can imagine vividly at any requested moment, one who can choose to see.
The only question is, what do you choose?
Enough thinking. Thinking is lame. That's all I do. Where the fuck is my life going?
Here's a self explanatory math class story.
"I know the answer. Turp has a great ass."
Anyhow this is Matt, Johnny, and Prof Turpin respectively. Typical day.
I am less than perfect.
It's not only the inconsistent breakdown of individual components within and without my body, it is also certain things I cannot control and cannot contain.
I wish that I would meet someone less flawed than I.
Someone who's only mistake of breeding is a certain blindness.
One that allows them to stare uselessly through me even though they sense I'm right in front of them.
One who's voice is a deep sound where there is no need for the forming of words, only simple strings of sound that reverberate in my ear and pluck the tender strings of memory in my brain.
One who I can imagine vividly at any requested moment, one who can choose to see.
The only question is, what do you choose?
Enough thinking. Thinking is lame. That's all I do. Where the fuck is my life going?
Here's a self explanatory math class story.
"I know the answer. Turp has a great ass."
Anyhow this is Matt, Johnny, and Prof Turpin respectively. Typical day.