So instead i'm sitting here listening to music. [link] I love that band. They rock my casbah...another reference..
But anyway. After a long week It's nice being able to chill. Don't you think?


Calm? Calm?Calm?
Someone take this trance away, Ive stared too long at the sunsets red furrows in the clouds. I watch it plow then plant itself deep beneath the bay.
As dark fingers clutch the sky I wait for inspiration. All my problems- like the seagulls, swarm inside my mind. They bite, they screech, they crave attention,
or a scrap of food. Id give them somet
new id

Penny PennyPenny
The pennies cascaded across the halls, Tinkling the way they do in your pocket On a warm summer day. Each one shiny, Each one new, every one the same, They roll away on down the hall Turning corners now and then.
I watch them go while wondering When and where theyll end.
So many pennies, like rippling waves Fill oceans, fill the rooms of my house Like thoughts of you fill my head.


Homerian HomericHomerian
If I were a hero of Homeric proportion
Promethean even by Herculean standards, I wouldnt ramble along, singing a song waiting on the world to change for me. If I were a hero Id do mighty deeds, making the mountains of sneering, snotty, sniveling sycophants seem like mere piles of tripe trying to share in my glory.
Instead Im a human, gender- male. In a world slowly turning away from all of the glory,


Theory of Dead LeavesThoughts, 1.Theory of Dead Leaves
The lawless ballet of chaos and ecstasy taste like liquor and your sweat. Are we Primal and unreserved or do we tussle and tumble, writhing into each other along a schematic carved by something bigger than both of us...
Revelations, 1.
No, I've decided we're most certainly animals, fucking up a storm and stealing bread we don't need.
You're stoned and I'm drunk, and we're both soaking in an oil black tub planning the next hit.
Thoughts, 2a.
There must be a rhythm to the way the leaves scrape against the molded bent edge
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--
To write the poem of the human conscience, if only of one man, even the most insignificant of man, would be to swallow up all epics in a superior and definitive epic.
Victor Hugo
--
~Take my hand and hold me close, Forever with you is my dose.~
Hey it most certainly has been awhile,
I wanted to thank you personally for the read and
I hope you're well.
--
"I love you more than my own skin." -- Frida Kahlo
--
To write the poem of the human conscience, if only of one man, even the most insignificant of man, would be to swallow up all epics in a superior and definitive epic.
Victor Hugo
Well, take it easy, and I'm glad you've been doing real well.
--
"I love you more than my own skin." -- Frida Kahlo
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