a one horned horse will never do it.

ohhhhh nooo. for my sake... are you serious? no.

 i'm not. i'm fucking cold, if anything. and i mean that in sooo many ways. i'm a cold hearted snatch. who cares? i do. and i don't. urgh.

 so i was made to think about, and to talk about, my family. one thing i realized... i love my family. i would stuff the minds of "infidels" with poop and rocks and what the fuck ever... just to make sure my family was going to "make it".

dear ken,
i'm sorry that shit sucks. it will never get better. i know. i know from experience. so stop your fucking preaching. everyone will die. everyone is fucked up. if you are normal, you might like burritos. but i understand if you don't. some "things" (people or whatever) they just don't like beans and rice and numerous fruits that are misnamed "vegetables" in a mixed dish... some don't appreciate the taste tornado that is yum time.
spay and neuter yourself... after all, we are all animals. oh ya... and....

there is someone in my life who told me to " pass the stoke on"

thanks.

sometimes... the things that you say and the knowleged that you can pass on to others... timeless.

sweet, sweet, sour heart.

dear sucra,

i fucking NEED you! i want  you, i need you, i take needles and pull the blood out of my veins just to see you! sucra. please be mine... for all time. what if you never had to deal with the goblins, sucra?! you might just walk free. we just might have the time to see the white. see the dark. see that night. sucra!!!!!!!!!!! do you see what i see? sucra.

stop eating doughnuts.

this is just about nothing at all... i just don't want to go to bed because i will only have to wake up to do it all over again.

hello foggy portland night. even though you make my shoulders feel extremely uptight, i must admit, you make my mind feel so right. i want to whiz around in your milky lamp lit sky and let you suffocate me with your dense mixture of smog and suspended in thin air ice crystals. i want to stay up all night and dance in the dew. i want you to make me wet and feel new. but alas, i lie in my bed, thinking about all the sleep i'm missing out on. lets face it, life for me is only getting better. i mean, not to sound like a fucking total ass hole, but it really is. and honestly, i have to make it that way. considering all the shit i have put myself though in the last 6 months, i can't really imagine that things should or would get any worse than they already have been. but i still want to walk in the brisk air, some 40, 50, or 60 blocks without a care. i want to do nothing all the time. i want to throw it all away. i want to stay up all night till tomorrow's day.

is this what poetry is? nah. i don't think so. this is more like self induced insomnia.

i don't know who i think i am right now. i just wish i could post all the things that i have been writing, and storing away, but i feel extremely critical of what i have to say. i started to think that maybe i should have never made this blog, at least under my own name. maybe i should have said that it was a relative of mine (a made up one) and i was so proud of the fact that this mental case could actually articulate a thought and so i wanted to share it with everyone i knew.
"oh ya, my great step aunt once removed decided that she would teach herself how to read and write... this is what she did with it. enjoy."

i want more hours in the day. i don't seem to get enough done, ever. what if we had days that were 48 hours... i might actually accomplish something.