Leonard Cohen's Seven Immutable Laws of Business ( Read more... )

chilly autumn day
solitude in the air
leaves rustling about
every thought a reflection

until

i lean forward
the steaming plate
to take a luscious bite
of an enchilada

AND I GET FUCKING STUCK IN THE RIBS BY MY UNDERWIRE

THE AGONY
THE FUCKING AGONY.

Thats pain.
Thats black belt goth.

Happy Halloween my darling, we should be breeding.

i'm pretty sure i felt a draft.

time to close the shutters.

Sweet things should be said simply.

Compliments should not be hard to decode.

Happy Autumn my darling.

http://www.theworldofadam.com/hope.html

feel the magic, spread the gloom.

it always becomes more apparent when the air is cool, and the leaves start to change.

I have magic flowing in my blood.

my cheeks are blushing
and I am getting dreamy.

autumn must be close.

sometimes despite the moist gusts of solitude
despite the long cracked fire trail of faded tastless memories
(which don't seem to belong to me any more)
and despite the tangles I can't seem to smooth,
and hands that just don't come clean any longer
I find that sometimes
I can still be taken by surprise
and find myself

a bit

breathless.

there is little that can describe the feeling when releif is realized.
washing through my belly like cold water
my head is swimming now
the high is good.