Occasionally, there is a shift in the significance of everything; during such periods of anomie, do not be alarmed. Momentously lost?
You can either swallow with a mouthful of (what might be) pills (or bugs), or you can spit, but you'll miss the benefit of a full mouth of medicine. Tote a lily stayed away all this year, I could've been in California, but I came back to man age my way through this.
Four fifty a six pack, joints, roaches, and rats chewed through all the wrapping paper she'd packed away. A blank, signed check for his fifty-forth birthday, the year she died. The week everyone died. Some day, a million years ago.
We have no time, no budget left, with which to be pretentious. Ask me anything. Anything you want to know. But you think, and there's nothing you'd want to know that certain. It's better to live as an imprint. Don't possess to impress.
What want wonts? Health, is my best guess. Sex a sin isn't exercise and I only know how to fall off of bikes, so I'll work on wait training. Patience, doctors. I have to see if I pass this drugged test.
Dakota Smith wants to set a cookie.
Labels: wordsalad
Everything that doesn't exist I miss. I'm a hundred places at once, except here. Accept her. Isn't it just? Delusions? It doesn't matter, it all is moving. It moves me, stops me up, and then I'll never start.
Some tait hurts. Some tait heals. For real, with a z, I'm the only place that exists in my mind. Now, I'd like to exit, but as fast as I can run past it, I'm still presented with this:
Stay in the groove long enough and you might end up in a rut. If you're in the trenches you shouldn't put posters up.
I hate my phone. I didn't eat alone today. I didn't eat it all.
I wish I could live life in one moment. Conjure it up and go, super nova. But for now I sit in stasis, stranded in paradise. An oasis playing bad music. Do you want sustenance, or a nuanced existence?
I have scores of journals filled with shit like this. I'd love to make it public, but I know they're still spying on me. Preemptively redacted.
Fits that if I could spell it all out, I'd school you on work. Work you through school. You'd
quit your job, live with your parents and enjoy it. Hone your instincts.
Instincronize yourself you beast. You're just a monkey with words. You could be an artist if you'd learn to exist. Humbly have a hobby.
Want more
word salad? I have more here, then I can eat alone.
Oh, I also put up pictures of the
Peel tour on Flickr. So I haven't totally lost it, yet.
Labels: wordsalad
