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(Untitled)
I feel cruddy. Well, that happens sometimes, a lot, not really, but it happens. My uncle died last Wednesday, or Thursday. I hadn't seen him in a year-ish. Thats another story though ( Read more... ) -
Where do we plan on carrying it all?
I don't make sense to myself at times. I'd suppose thats normal for people, but it still happens, expecially considering it as normal. Just bizzare I suppose.
I stayed out at moms on Saturday night. First time in two months or so. Funny, how routine has morphed into something incredibly uncomfortable in ways - unnatural at that. I tried ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I'm in the mood to rant, but...I'd much rather not ( Read more... ) -
I don't know really what this is.
I could go ahead and take such a bold leap as to list all of the things bearing down on me with undeniable pressure at the moment. Suffice to say, most of the list wouldn't be accurate, as the only thing that really bothers me at the moment, is my bruised spine. An injury resulting from being pushed, losing my balance and falling onto the corner ( Read more... ) -
Apple Torts
I'm going to do something different, and 'free write' for ten or 15 minutes, and just go with that.
The more I think about it, the more I don't know about my life. In general, it's a mixed bag of sorts, my friends, my interests, my goals, it's constantly morphing into differerent things, and I'm not exactly sure if I like or don't like where it's ( Read more... )
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(Untitled)
There's a level of life.
Of happiness, of bliss.
If I could ever reach such a level, words can not describe.
Not even begin. -
(Untitled)
Each day, someone new. Each day, someone familiar. Each person, a new story, a new path, new flavor, fresh meat. I see a lot of people while I'm working, some of them just walking by, others stopping to comment on how hard I'm working, or how I'm not. Some shuffle by and seem to be awkwardly waiting for my to finish my job so they can grab ( Read more... ) -
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I find it unusual how worked up I still get when I think of Murphy Brown. I wasn't even around her for most of her life. We got her when I was in fifth grade, and up until Senior year of high school, I alternated weekly between my parents. Only seeing her half the time. The last two years of her life, I was there for maybe a month total.
Man, ( Read more... ) -
Upon Request
Ode To Toast (and other poetic forms regarding toast)*
By Dustin James Zick
Ode:
Toast
Oh, toast.
How you please me so.
Slices of toast.
Slices of toast.
Some are slightly toasted.
Some are badly burned.
Yet they're all still toast.
It makes a popping sound in the toaster.
I snatch it out.
OUCH!
I burnt my hand.
Screw it, I want the toast.
OUCH!
I burnt my mouth.
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(Untitled)
Oh, shit.
I need to find something really fun to write about.
APPLE TORTS
EARTHQUAKERY
QUAKERS
OATMEAL
NORTHEASTERN USA
MAINE
STEPHEN KING
THE LANGOLIERS
THE ONE OLD DUDE FROM THE LANGOLIERS
QUANTOM LEAP
SCOTT BAKULA...
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ENTERPRISE?
I got nothing.