my brain is still awake when my body is asleep. and it's this constant struggle to keep eighty thoughts outside of my head so i can sleep sleep sleep. in bed for nearly an hour with the lights off and eyes dash about the room as if possessed by a goddamn rabbit. i hate not being able to sleep b/c then the focus leads me to concentrate on the texture of the sheets that grow uncomfortable and scratchy and hot with body friction. mind flies like tiny airplanes in the sky that leave trails of smoke messages behind.
i think something is up with your itchy palm, damion.
wrapping stars in twine and bringing them to your eyes. awww. remember when george threw a lasso around the moon?
my fingers are cold. and so is my arse. holes below back pockets are rock and roll if you like to look like a hooker. and i don't want to. but i'm too cheap to buy new ones.
i've got liar written on my arm in permanent black marker.
i want to eat strawberry jam with a spoon.
three blocks away and i bought milk from the corner store. there were price tags written in markers, not just typed on white stickers. the store smelled of fruit and grain. the aisles small and cozy so one could curl up in the grocery store.
great muppet caper with pigs climbing the walls of number seventeen highbrow street. curled up on the couch with damion after midnight. i am so down for the cowboy hat conditions.