7.3

Seven point three

I don't work out. But I like to run away from my problems. Seven point three miles is all it takes for me to run away from everything and also get back to the core of every problem. You can run as much as you want... Run away as fast as you can. I find that I run in circles. 7.3 mile circles.

I know this because I run on country roads. Cars drive on country roads, cars have mile trackers. I tracked the miles.

7.3 is my number... the last number.

After all consideration... I decided that this is no guarantee... I do not like reason. Give me one good reason to do anything...

Running is not one of those things anymore.

I just want to sleep.

Love is a fire for life

It's been a while... things just haven't felt right. Until now. It's been a wild ride. I feel like a lose canon, or maybe just a wild card.

Or I may have just found out that I like everything about my life.

One thing that is solid and true: I have the most desirable friends and family. They care like those colorful bears up in the sky; they sparkle like a million strippers; their insight is that of a guru; our love is comparable to nothing I know. And I love them. I love them like waking up from a nightmare and knowing that everything is fine. I love them the way a tree loves water. I need them. I need you. I love you.

So I am here to say thank you and sorry.

Thank you for your support, friendship and for being you.
Sorry for my general lack of participation and overall disregard for anything.

We are all going different ways and it feels good, it feels right.
However, it feels lonely, yet, overwhelmingly full. I will always love my friends and I will never let them go because they are me and I am them... eye to sight/heart to heat/ear to silence.

my, what a busy day off i have

GET-YOUR-SHIT-TOGETHER list for today, july 16^th 2012

·          Pay visa

·         Pay students loans

·         Deter student loans

·         Don’t spend more than 15 dollars

·         Dishes

·         Start food list of things I eat

·         Call-

o   Mom (bday toms)

o   dad

o   lisa

o   Shelby

o   Rachel

o   Marc (call soon, something seems wrong)

·         Cut finger nails

·         Look up skin shit

·         Clean computer

·         Remove files from computer

·         Backup files

·         Put more files onto computer from camera

·         Blog post

·         Music list… need new music

·         Suntan (find sunscreen)

·         Read books

·         Sail?

·         Boulder?

·         Paint?

·         Sew?

·         Do 20 sit ups and 20 push ups

·         Drink 120 oz’s of water

·         Find water bottle

·         Go on run?

·         Do yoga?

·         Go “you pick” in’ for cherries and shit?

·         Can veggies and fruit

·         Make a pie

·         Drink beer!

i don't have time for this

fuck
this is the thing that i tell myself that i want.
i say, "kris, fuck."

but i say, "hormones, no,"


and i realize that i just want someone to rub my back.
no fucking, no stressing. no anxiety. just back rubs.
this is the point when i look at my phone.... pretending that i don't have a phone.
this is the point when i look at the wall... acting like i can see past it.
this is the moment were i forget what time it is.... and then i ask "what is time?"


who made time up?
someone made it up.

hair is everywhere

should i cut my hair, or... or drink  hard liqure and post some crazy stupid shit on the internet?

both.
i shall do both.

i already fucking cut a huge chunk out of my hair, and i have been drinking all day. so... so really i have no choice in the matter. except for the whole "i'm going to post some lame crap on the internet" thing. i could avoid that whole thing, but that wouldn't be much fun.

first off, let me tell you how frustrating it is to have a computer that thinks that the year is 2003.
this is a problem.
this is a fucking problem because when i turn my computer on, it tells itself that its 2003 and the problem with that is... the year is 2012.
when you think it is one year and really it is not, you might not have the information needed to work properly... even though you do.

alright, fuck that shit.
back to this.

i think i should cut more of my hair off. it's heavy. my head hurts. my neck can't hold all of this. so i'm probably going to have to whack all this stupid shit off. here in lies yet another problem. this time, the problem is me. i want long hair, right?! but i keep cutting it off. i once bought a wig and i tore it off about 3 hours after i put it on. i have never seen it since. i miss that wig. i looked natural in that long, black wig. people thought that i had long black hair... retards. my hair is short and blond and i look like i have a fucking mental issue because no one in their right mind would cut their hair the way i did.

freez

i wear leather moccasins.
i never want them to get wet because they stay that way.
yet, i never want to wear anything else, because they give me a nice foot tan. so what if i have moist, leather clad, hot toes?!
so what if i have shit all over my sole's souls?

so what.
so fucking what if i found someone that i want to copy?!
i want to copy this person.
i want to fall in love with something. again.

i wear lotion.
it covers me like the cloths that i don't want to wear.
it keeps me comfortable.
i want to be without it.

so.
so.
what.

leather and lotion will never make the morning and the evening dance together.
lotion and leather will never make the despaired and the genial prance the same dance.

so. 
so now i'm going to burn these warts off of my mother fucking fingers.

jel

okay... so you want to know what is not cool... telling someone you care about to fuck themselves. on my defense, it was a total accident. a total accident. i thought that they were someone else. and i am sorry. very sorry for that one.