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Staring Forward
Drunk on Puerto Rican rum at the moment. Seems like a good time to capture some words. Wrestle them, pin them down, categorize, classify, organize and hang on my wall. There is so much weight on the left side of my brain, it is a miracle I can dream at all. There are ones and there are zeros. There is true and not true. I huff and I puff and I try to blow all the little houses down, and why is that so important to me, if people want to build their houses out of twos?


Can't do it. Train of thought. Skip and a jump, stream of consciousness. I remember erragal because of my anxiety attack posting. I remember gildeddawn because of pockets decaying in my brain, and damn she's smart. I remember summers and winters and everything in between, which only amounts to an autumn, because spring... Ha! What is a spring here? A frantic attempt to forget the winter and seize the summer.

You should play in my Changeling game I'm not running, because I'm very brilliant and atmospheric. You should ignore me because I am drunk.

I cry all the time. It's only occasionally that I let anyone see it.

I am also famously infamous for being a drama queen of self-inflated gravity. A queen of cold mint and false importance. Ignore me, children, this is the time of crisis. On the horizon are days of summer, when skin meets air and is never challenged. I believe in the divine and the earthly, and what in heaven's name will I teach my children? Baptize them with Mississippi water, and crown them with branches from a Minneapolis park.

Thank you, I will not be appearing at any function you are holding in the near future, because I think I am an awkward fool and that you really don't want me there. Who the hell wants me there? DO NOT ANSWER ME. Maudlin musing are meant to be overcome.

I want to be in your dreams. That is all. End of line. QED.


Oh crap, now I have to try to TAG this beast?