my very first LJ entry ever. But it still stands so true. Here's the reminder
If Hunter can blow his brains out than I suppose wit isn't everything. Personal kinkiness can only take us so far.
FREE WRITES ARE FUN
We were among friends of the last days club. Saying good riddence and leaving paradise together. Time to hibernate. I prefered to focus on the dreams ahead. A trip on its own. The long sleep. Wake me up when Spring comes.
"You wake up first", I told her. The one I'd be sleeping/hibernating closest to. I want to awake from the coma being held and open my eyes to to the blured images of her.
Somewhere in me is a hopeful Spring. A fantasy dream. A deep summer filled with the smells of the forest clearing's flower fields. Where bumble bees hum the chorus vacume.
I want to know the deepest loves. On the other side I want to know the dieing and dead. Atleast a taste. Maybe see it on a few nights.
Having a conversation over coffee with your feelings does not compare to running with them. Just don't beat that puppy. He'll grow to kill you. Piss on you for days when your dead. Maybe put a hump or two in on you. Both of you looking silly. Only the deceased dog kicker looking silly and dead
You go to the old club house to see there's been a trespasser in your absence.
(i usually want to tear up past writings the next week;then the week after that i say wait that was good stuff. So give me a week i'll hate ->'The Last Days Club freewrite again)