fuckall

I'm weary of all the petty games being played.
It's getting stale and redundant and cold;
A means of entertainment for everyone else.
We lose out.
Or do we, really?

fuck em,

fuck em ,

fuck em,

fuck em all...

need a new watch

Seems I've been a repeat participant in this little game of counting the days to whatever it is that is significant at the moment. It's tiring.

tiny tot

Lying low for 2 days, ciggies, tv and tea and good company makes for decent conversation and a hell lot of stoning off into our own little worlds.

dotdotdot

Weird vibes. Solitary confinement. Self imposed, but left without a choice.
2 weeks is a long time.

brainjuiuces

she's right. about me. And what do I do about it huh? what indeed.
Dust still hasn't settled but I feel I'm onto something.

dying to reach

At the end of the day, all that really matters is fading smoke, blowing softly into the air, non-trivial banter, the touch of skin, the smell of hair, hugs, between like minded individuals who matter. He says we dance a childish dance, and most times it's true.

gingko biloba

Clarity. Sometimes it takes a little poison for me to realize the actual state of things. The stinging sensation that often comes with truth is painfully comforting. It's, real.

scatterd bum cells, soybeans and poofy lips

if i could find a way not to speak, through verbal words, and speak with my mind and not my voice, i think i would truly be. You wonder sometimes, how and why people behave and act in their little quirky ways. My quirks and many misdemeanors somehow emanate from the fact that my body and my brain are out of sync.

Wed. tats and tits are havin a good time. At least one of them did. Tats says it was a drag; was gettin stale, one of 'em had to bail. Tits had a little flame. It was good.

as for poochie, babysitting duties were part of the itenerary. Jam and bread, a little too much milk for the two. poochie was on hand to keep an eye on the two. 80's beats and fancy meats, on display but none poochie would or could attract. Snakes and ladders were laid out bare, no one would touch her, no one would dare. pretty men too many a drink, unloads in the sink, along with the stink on his shirt, poochie scrubs off the dirt. girls late arrival sparks a revival, and all but the day is saved. mcdonalds with four, and just before six, we pack it all up and head off to stop.