Sunshine, Beer, Questions, Letters, and Laundry: a Saturday Ramble.

[rebelriot_grrl]

i'm all about run on sentences and titles of journal entries that sound like kids' adventure movies but are actually just the 'highlights list' or something of my day. I dunno. I guess if *children* were actually doing what i do on my days' off i suppose it would seem like quite the fucking crazy adventure staying up all night drinking, doing crazy hard shit, going to work six days in a row, going on crazy sprees of madness and shopping, all the while trying to remain alive + sane + able to find + keep + accept love in this crazy, teched out world. Lately has just been...crazy. for lack of a better, unused word. Today i decided no matter what craziness lay ahead that I would spend the first part of the day getting stuff done. First of all i did kind of sleep in but that wasn't a big deal since my first appointment was flexible, and at noon. See, I've been wanting to get "Sunshine" tattooed on the inside of my forearm to commemorate my boy, punk rock lover and otherwise, Sammy sunshine. :) So yeah, now i've got myself a purdy hardcore handwritten tatty of "Sunshine" on my right arm. Next I needed to get food in my tummy, cigarettes, ozonal (for the tattoo), and yes, of course--- a slurpee! So i did that and then took a luxurious taxi cab ride back home, showed off my tattoo, cuddled a bit amongst the ruins of boys playing Xbox, and got some laundry and stuff ready. A couple hours later here I am, smack dab in the middle of my laundry, doing my best to keep from doing any internet shopping, wondering what the night will bring. I want to really keep it simple tonight and yet I have that weird "oh no I'm doing nothing" feeling. Hmmmmmmm.......Well surely I'll feel like hanging out and playing domestic by the time I have all these clothes washed, folded, taxi-cabbed, and brought home to be hung up and put away....(if that doesn't work, beer's bound to heal). I wrote this sometime last week i do believe. I don't know what t o say about it. I guess suffering brings inspiration but I'm not certain what good it's worth, sometimes. I don't know. Here it is, straight out of my notebook. I am seeking peace I often find pieces I am sitting in the early morning hourse of a fading coke high trying to avoid tea with the mad hatter the pitter patter of old regrets occupy me like storm troopers still i wanna hold on still my weakness lingers Almost like a two headed monster My mind in my head split me Gluttonous insanity "genious" is tricky from under the table tragically unable to get a grip still aware enough to see a twisted perception of me from this shackled body from the troubled strangers mumbling down the street Hope for blue sky stare into canvas feet daily obligation a feat into itself.