I changed journals. I changed screennames. I won't be around that much, but I decided that having no public outlet would sort of fuck me up harder. Sorry if I didn't add you. I didn't add many people. Really just people who I know give a damn. I want the right people around to watch me drown (namely the people who can throw me a line the fastest/ ( Read more... )

Chaos theory regards systems, and the idea that any simple one you can think of... will generate irregular behavior born from decidedly "regular" conditions. Textbooks sometimes talk about chaos in terms of fluctuating animal populations, unpredictable weather patterns and "strange attractors", but it's everywhere, all the time. And paradoxically, ( Read more... )

I've always said that all I'd ever have was my honesty. That's all I can take with me because it's all that is necessary. It's what will make or break everything else about me that's good -- my writing, my personality, my friends, my family. It all depends on my honesty. And lately, that's been damaged ( Read more... )

I registered the AIM screenname: HOT BAGS OF CRAP.

H
HAV
Having oatmeal and hot chocolate and listening to Phil Collins and wearing a wet sweater and running my hand through my dirty hair and fixing my glasses and nodding and plodding and doing my work and having some water and a bit more oatmeal and feeding like a bird and enjoying it because last night I slept so sad and silently. You coming back ( Read more... )

My glassy eyes are going to sleep now. Telephone me and see if I answer and maybe tell me something wonderful. I'll ask "hello?" on faith that you'll hook the bait; hook the bait and throw the line and find me kicking quietly -- ten fish in tow.

You'd kill me if I told you what thoughts this familiar cold shake and mumble put inside of me. But how far would you really go? I want you so deep inside of me that we'd eventually dive slow and raise the weapon up together like a sun.

CUTEST EVER!


( Read more... )

I HATE when ex-girlfriends look better than I do. I need to diet and fix up this mess that I've become or else no one will ever have me again. It's probably best to disappear and stop teasing myself with these seeds of myself left over from those days when I grew and grew and grew my plants all into stalky weeds with hanging arms. I am horrible to ( Read more... )

Nothing more depressing than parties with people discussing alternative routes to their jobs and/or wherever I might want to go. It's cruel to tell me how to get away when you won't get out of my ears. Nothing impresses me less than someone who knows backroads. Please. I'll just stay in my room with my Walt Whitman anthology and a cup of soft Irish ( Read more... )