| i leave for texas the 2nd of june for 2 weeks of training then i go to Papua New Guinea the 16th and i get back the 17th of August. 937 232 4933. call me.
|
| |
| SH*T, PO*P, T*RDS, BL*S*ON. it hurts.... please refer to post entitled: a day of pain...thursday april 5th
|
| |
| i would do anything to not have to do what i have to do except not doing what i have to do.
|
| |
| A feeling like gravity woke me up, the stars were all leaning close to see what i would do with the day that lay still sleeping in my lap. both hands pressed against the arms of the chair; fighting against what was and wasn't there. i struggled up to catch my breath among the dreams that still flittered about the ceiling like mosquitoes. the day stirred (i stroked her hair) the mosquitoes fled (they'll be back at 11:59 to end what they began again). my roommate tosses embryonically in his sleep throughout all of this; sloshing through another twilight vision. emerging and submerging. i open the door to allow the night a gushing exit into the hall. i am carried along to the window. the world below is a dried-up aquarium. thousands of barnacled castles lean together in rows. the sickly encrusted seaweed is cemented by the sunlight and crumbles beneath the feet of passersby. and passby they do. like hammerhead sharks, they see nothing until the very moment of it's passing, at which point they can neither enjoy nor postpone it's passing. instinct overrides inertia, the hammerhead strikes!! three strikes, you're out. i close the window (from the outside)... the day stands prepared outside my apartment building. she hands me a green emblemed elixer. she says green stands for life. maybe it does. metaphors escape me. but im glad for the sun on my face.
|
| |
| you set the worlds spinning and they persist you spoke your word for light, thus it exists a thousand times per second, a pulsar speaks your name it takes a normal star 10 billion years to do the same
|
| |