“How does it feel to be born?”

It’s scary. And everything is pale yellow and everything was quiet for me but others have told me they heard Piano and the early beginnings of rock’n’roll. In the wee beginnings, we fight to be the winner in the race, and it’s said it’s all so naive. (Which I believe.) Then you go through the motions. Just like ( Read more... )

            Introducing....


( Read more... )

I know someday he's bound to go away and over the rainbow....

sometimes i forget who i've got. the amazing everyones. my arm-linking-shashay-stepin-yellowbrick-roaders. the drink-up-baby-stay-up-all-nighters.

this is me sighing.

then i've got the ones who i want to fill all these shoes... too many shoes. or just one odd fitting shoe. i cant ( Read more... )

He's now caught in an octagon-like cycle. Sharper corners. Foreign angles. Repetitive, redundant. He's slowly accepting and warming up to the fact that this is, indeed, a cycle. He told me it's temporary. He's a liar. This is his life, and he's going no where. He's just bumping into jagged corners and bruising himself in his little circle of not- ( Read more... )

Sara and I hung out Saturday morning. I felt that the bond between her and I strengthened that morning. The feeling was real, a bit new to me, and just... it was just good. We just talked, we just listened. I sat in her room with her for a few hours, and I never once got bored, never once did my mind drift; we were just there... being friends. To ( Read more... )

#1...
                                                                                 garbage

Shirley Manson - Edinburgh, Scotland
Butch Vig - Wisconsin
Steve Marker - New York
Duke Erikson - Nebraska

So, now that's all nice and clear.

#2...

It's a crazy merry-go-round we live on. Round and Round, up and down, ultimately the same position(s) ( Read more... )

So, Sunday night.... Miss Pleasing to the eyes and ears and everything else Paulina, Maximus Kanterous, and The Di Vinci Something Something Sex Goddess (Sara... who else?) Had one hell of a night....

( And Then There Were Cookies.... )

It's funny how we try to match such silly, fantastic even, cliches. We walk around with ideas in our heads that we are, or are becoming, the neat and pre-defined descriptions others use for our chosen genre/sub genre. (sub-genres for the more extreme, OR more rather the indecisive.)

It's fun, we feel special, because we choose. And when we're not ( Read more... )

It makes me laugh. So stuck in my animosity - so imprudent - so scared. Little things bring back some not-so-distant memories of silliness, of shame, of - well - me. So how is it we get away with throwing ourselves away and starting anew? How is it we become the missing puzzle piece as apposed to the yesterdays of being the spot that was missing ( Read more... )

Throwing out the fucking book of regulations - speaking freely while crushing that box of mental confinement between my legs beneath the table's linens. Pumping the steamy liquid into the leaves of love, sex, sadness, and thought creating an aroma of my idea of one fuck of a heavenly brew. But then there is the other brew - the us - the lost - ( Read more... )