Busy, distracted, strapped, stressed and stuck. I'm doing what's right for myself, I'm pretty sure. My regimen in this festering holding period is a tense and slippery directive to just keep moving forward while forcing myself to look outside at everything and be involved in it somehow. I strictly flood the quiet hours in my room with intense music ( Read more... )

DECOMPOSE!
Here, in this age of reflex.tion.

Oh, maaaaaaannnn. Dust gets on. Onward.

My god! What killed the majesty?

Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.

All things about blizzards for the sweet picket fences and warm hot cocoa of upper-class suburbia, are adorable.

Despite the fact that I have been stranded to work in nanny land for almost six days now, things are not all bad. For one, I am totally in love with the neighbor, Mrs. Doe's husband.

Jesus bloody Christ, Earth! I get it, you're beautiful. Will you just change already?

In light of the "Pardon my Idiocy" bill that our infamous, ass clown president is forcing through legislation, I wonder, how can anyone still possibly make excuses for him. Didn't you learn anything from Nixon ( Read more... )

As the summer drags onward through a blur of coordinated obligations, displaced necessities, prolific desensitizing and undulating romps with the mind, I find myself less alive. I miss freedom. Every minute feels like I'm waiting for the day to end so I can continue not sleeping and advance (or not) to a repetition of the same minutes in another ( Read more... )

Pre-liberation flee to do's ( Read more... )

I am going to build a boat and raft it.

My robe was too far away after taking a shower, so I put my boots on instead.

Words are complicated. Stringing them together for a profession is insane.