Sep 06, 2006 05:19
there's something simmering in the air and it stirs my primitive, bovine nostrils. I smell my own imagined form of beauty taking shape.
I smell thundering drum beats that echo the hearts rythm. It smells good. I smell alien fuzz with all the strange warbles that encompass emotion. It's the smell I've been waiting for all my life. I smell the pad-lock to a cage I didn't even know I was in.
I smell the keys that'll allow me to escape.
there is no time for reflection when bullets are flying and years are melting.
My sister agrees with me. It's time for those great Taurean nerves to heal, and finally, to fuckin FEEL! as freely as nerves shaved of all fat and bone.
Horoscope for TAURUS:
"The stimulus that served as Ravel's major inspiration for "Bolero" was a visit to a cacophonous steel mill. He's your role model for the coming week, Taurus. I foresee you drawing creative excitement from events that are rife with noise and commotion. May your messy encounters lead you to produce great work, interesting surprises, or both."
DRAMA. fuckin bring it on! I've been attacked before, I know which armor to bring. give me all you've fuckin got! I need something to kickstart the healing process.
And I know you all do too! A nice big tragedy to lube up the change you've all wanted inside. Don't be afraid!
THEY're wrong for you and you KNOW it.
Throw yourself into oblivion and have some fun! and learn something!