reading notes found from eighth grade. playing uno, chess, and sorry not abiding rules. a smoking marathon - nobody knows where all the time went. old video tapes of sparkly dancing boys were watched while we wrapped up in blankets and felt grand with high heels. bob dylan and janis joplin make for the best voices in your head through all the ( Read more... )

dodging state troopers, firefags, and scary bag men taking up the sidewalk. throwing drugs and later double oh sevening them back safe. peeing side-by-side in front of dirtgrass mounds with towels doused in windex and green. faking insurance companies and hanging out of the vehicle, whispering who are you. stuffing faces and stuffing kitties faces ( Read more... )

if i were a photographer this post would be full with pictures. if i were an artist this post would be full with art. if i were a musician this post would be full with music. if i were a hippy this post would reek of marijuana, day-glo colors, and happy faces. if i were a college student this post would be full with schedules and party photographs ( Read more... )

isn't it strange?

i've been flying, soaring, with my eyes closed. i dive into my sleep. i actually dive right in there through the ribbons of colors and it feels so good. it feels . . . so . . . good.

throw me your insides over here. i'll throw you mine. we can mix it up a bit, trade some organs. second hand feels better anyhow.

what is the point in ever knowing someone fully?

there are some things i desire more than living life itself

mornings feel glorious. i haven't woken up from my drug-induced sleep to see one since you've been gone. the smell of coffee and cigarettes really gets me going. put on a little bob. yeah, that's the good stuff. let's start our record today. you can read me your poetry and i'll dance around you in circles. joint one, two, three, and four. devoured.

lovedrug + ryan + pot = fuck yeah

we're better than you

"By the time I reached my thirties, my brain had been strip-mined by a combination of drugs, alcohol, and the chemical solvents used at the refinishing company where I worked. Still, there were moments when, against all reason, I thought I might be a genius. These moments were provoked not by any particular accomplishment but by cocaine and crystal ( Read more... )

there are no intimate hallways