walk back crows
et al. my mother told me I have a beautiful soul, something about that encourages me. The perfection of the artistic challenge, I have gained a perspective on life not yet known by my weary eyes. its what I make of oil and butter and things can be great, things can be full and absolute. I genuinely care about them, its hard to tell if anything is mutual anymore. I don't even know the name but laughing at my jokes...makes me think clearer, makes me hope more. keep tearing at my hair, keep picking at my brain, little pools reside on top as if filling with something useful but the veracity of the fill is lacking in reality. my wrists are thick, my ankles are thick...thick brain. I'm not willing for anymore. Just send an invitation my way. Little space in the world. My days are so strangely the same and why does it bother me so? Do I prefer this way of life? great personality manifests...and I'm offered fish for the feeding. I like to know there's something out there. Its not unusual to want a life other than your own. I can and will stand up against anything, but my knees do buckle and I do shiver and I do faint, I've been feeling it more lately and I know why, my heart is fine, I'm fine I'm just beyond understood. fuck this I'm not doing it now...I'm beyond comprehension. I bought a jawbreaker the other day, I can't speak for fear of choking. where would we get a rubber hose at this time of night.