what if all of life
is a flipbook?
from,
awkward position?
to stilted grin–
only as smooth. as. its. creator:
is willing to make it.
but before you point fingers & call names
(lazy bastard! manipulative machinery!)
do you really think it’s easy?
easy to draw every detail
of your pathetic life.
do you? (you worthless cretin.)
(”i brought you into this world & i can just as easily take you out of it.”)
study me.
This is a test post from 
, a fancy photo sharing thing.
Fleet Foxes really just make summer … ok, actually life… that much nicer. If you’ve somehow not listened to them yet, please (please! I beg of you!) do so immediately. You will not regret it, and you will probably wish to thank me on hands and knees. However, I’ll have none of it (I get embarassed easily), so instead take it as a chance to do a little dandelion dance with me (this consists of jumping about madly in pretty little sundresses and blowing on dandelion seeds to create new, lovely weed-tastic life), then we can go have a spot of tea, yes?
I drove an 8 1/2 hour drive in 6 hours and 45 minutes today. Hooray for getting home somewhat expediently!
I am attempting to figure out how to write a poem or essay about this idea I have. It’s a fairly morbid premise, but the pictures I have in mind are incredible and MUST be put into words. It’s about that urge you get to turn your steering wheel and go careening off a bridge into the water… we all have it, I know.
Question: What, exactly, is a “homosexual political agenda”? Why do the two have to have anything to do with each other?
I’m done; I need sleep desperately.
I’ve lost 22 pounds since October! I love my body… that has happened, uh, never?
Thank you for saving me from my moronic choices.
Thank you for being His gift to me.
Thank you for understanding
my
stupid
emotions.
[On a concrete slab
With a skunk! as our only company,
the moonlight smattered swingsets,
the tiny plastic slides (no fun for us!)]
and my weak heart
plagued by the lies! of that VERBALLY TOXIC BASTARD
My only regret
is everyone
before you.
But, hey! Let’s not say regret! That’s not any way to live.
Let’s just live for the future and leave our pathetic lives of old to purging and weeping as the senselessly do best.
[ ]
And you…
you who I knew - even then.
I was sure you were important (I was right),
And I think part of me knew:
You were my last
my first
my last first kiss.
[ ]
and we - we were unaware,
but somehow: we knew!
and we were already falling in love.
And now that we’re there, we’ve realized:
It’s not a fall.
It’s an ascension.
Pulled up by “Cupid”,
with his perfect, amorous plan.
Oh, I’m so glad it was you.
My last first kiss.
You were the truest best friend I ever had.
I only wish I’d met you earlier,
When you were merely a boy in the lush fields of Westphalia,
But I guess the fact that you affected me so
in such a short few years
speaks for your character more
than a life-long friendship
ever could?
I left that day to sing,
Knowing that upon my return, the ugly yellow monster would be rearing its awful metal head.
Mmm, but let’s remember the nice things:
Those tricks you’d play on me, just to show off what you knew,
And those pure, soulful glances you’d cast my way longingly.
My Gorgeous Indie Love.
With your flowing, shiny gold…
I know you watch me from your clover-filled cloud,
Sprouting sugar and the juiciest of apples,
And I know you celebrate with Duke when the Redskins win,
And you calmly take his angry antics when they lose.
I’m sorry that I was seventeen.
And I thank you for my shooting stars
Every night
of December oh-four.
(Thank you for being my gift from God.)
You still make my dreams a happy place…
but no one will ever replace you.
