this is the first day my head has not fallen towards the head rest of my car and landed on the pillow of my bed.
the other day, we watched baby fat cheeks at scholtzsky's he dresses in the fashoinable attire of printed bloomers and a bib. real men go shirtless. soup in a bowl. hit bit his mommy, and when she cried out, he smiled. looks like we've got an evil one our hands.
i'm covered in teal and magenta inks stains as the result of a tumultuous battle.
jumble genius coming through. i've found my calling, and it's unscrambling letters to form words.
the faint came out in all black to a stage brewing with smoke and yellow light. out of control keyboardist moving to the beat like fluid gas when sweat drips off his chin and to the floor with a silent but present splash. we moved and it's just so god damn hot. pulling at collars and lifting up pants.
the marker marks the creases in my skin, the me in the epidermis.
the wind is blowing, and one side of the tree is in sun and the other in shade. little ella, small white cat, rests in the sun, breathing softly while the breeze rustles soft fur.
orange vitamins are yummy.
it's so hot, you don't walk. you melt from place to place, drifting mass from one space to another. my toes long for water to ripple into concentric circles, invisible with the exception of shadows on the bottom of the pool.
your house and your room just played one after the other on the playlistt. is it a sign for where i am meant to be?