27%

Once more I have risen against my will, the demand of this “world” is forcing me into the square, though all I have wanted to do was to color outside the lines. I am currently drinking something that has 27% of juice, what do you think makes up the other 63%? I like being in this state of need, unlike a drug addict I don’t want ‘one more hit’, but instead I desire my comforter with pillows added. If it were my world, grown-ups would have the options of taking an hour nap in addition to lunch break. The lunchroom, and coffee mess would be augmented with sleeping quarters, just like Japanese TV stations.

C'mon Shoes

I was battling with my shoes this morning, and I was told that I’d be writing about it. Coherent, I don’t feel like being coherent this morning; my entire world is freezing up with the 15° of naked cold that took life over the night. It coerced my driveway into becoming an ice hockey rink, and the adjacent streets followed suit. The drive from sub-urban frozen unclean block to sub-urban unclean frozen block is a test in character, strength, determination, and sheer 4X4 power; luckily I’ve got all of those things securely lodged in my back pocket. I am not writing about my shoes being unkind to me; however, I am writing once again. All it took was a comment from a higher brainpower in regards to my undeniable struggle with my Skechers semi-matrosexual foot wear to wake me up from my snoozing state. What has changed since the last time, hmmmm, not much, I just have a fresh new crop of tiny bumps decorating my forehead. It’s like revisiting puberty, minus the constant horniness, kind of. The dermatologist thinks she has got something that can help me, and I think I just got screwed by nature, or mother. None of my siblings struggle with this epidermis plague, but I, I, hmmmm, I. Yeah, I’ve been given a second hand skin, and I don’t like it. People are looking at me funny, something with some widget somewhere, I have to go, for now.

apology

I apologize for the semi-drunken blog, hopefully no one got hurt in by the process; I’ll try to keep them to a minimum

Not completely

Yeah, I've had a few, and yes I have access to the web. Is surfing and drinking illegal, I don't know yet, but I am testing it now. If I do write anything that can incriminate me at any level, just disregard it. I woke up sick this morning, acutally no, that was last morning, I woke up fine this morning, and was sorry about missing yesterday. I looked at the weather, and saw that it was a wonderful day, and people have told me that it was a wonderful day, I hated being sick for that single reason. I am fine now, I'll be fine till I don't know when, but I am no longer germy; the busy weekend will go on fine, I'll meet up with the people that I am suppose to, and I'll understand the individuals that I am suppose to. So much for a Friday night, I wonder what will come of Saturday, and Sunday. God will guard over me, even though I haven't been as good as I should. Thanks for driving lady, I hope you find the comfort that will bring you all that you deserve, thanks.

Hmmm 

?

I’ve been idle, I’ve been stuck in this phase, more like I don’t really feel the need to share, I don’t know what it is. However, a friend woke me up with her little passage, and her discovery of someone else’s (pain * joy) . I don’t know, shouldn’t I be giving more to the world, what will my fucking donation be to this world? I truly believe we all have the duty of making it better, just a bit better than when we came on it, now what the fuck should my contribution be? When I met God, and believe me I will, what will I tell him that I did with the gifts that he’s given me?

Daddy Dearest

The daddy that is supposed to be here to spoil and provide for her took off while she was still on life support in her mother’s belly. While attached to that umbilical cord she experienced the pain, fear, stress, and anguished the carrier lived during the unexpected and troubling departure of the “man” whose sperm had grown. The now is twelve years later, and daddy dearest is still of interest. Where, why, how, what she asks, while finding bits of love vicariously through the friends whose family portrait looks the norm, mommy and daddy. The ache this lack of love brings cannot be measured, for no scales are big enough to weight it. Her heart scream for the missed hugs, unknown laughs, the happy birthdays, the I love yous, the smiles, the smirks, the daddy whose appearance only take shapes in her dreams.

I know squat about these feelings, can’t relate to them, so I can’t write about them.

NewBorn

The beginning of time seems not to be so far behind

Cause the crevasses of her end is the tip of you creation

This African bee, with curves drawn by time

Laying in your bed, with quivering thighs

Demanding your touch with the night's rhythm

Anxious fingertips meeting with her skin

Don't you like the way she takes you in

The way her juices make your labor sweet

The guidance of love you won't need tonight

Cause just like breathing it is subconscious

Just like a newborn, you'll yell to survive

Paramount

woke up this morning with the need to go to bed, the dream I was having before could be qualified as a nightmare if it were not for the angelic figures that inhabited it. Reluctantly I went about the routine, water, soap, toothpaste, banana, grape juice, pills, underwear, pants, socks, shoes, shirt, and so on.
I got in the car and took the ride south to the plantation; after showing my ID to the kid holding the AK-47 a feeling came upon me, all of a sudden I wanted to get married. How did I know that feeling, how did I know that’s what I was feeling, I don’t know, but I just knew. The person that I wanted to get married to was unknown, but the feeling of belonging was what showed. I am guessing the whole world is out of whack cause it’s 62 degrees on January 4, and I want-ED to get married. The feeling is gone now, but it was present nonetheless. Does that mean that I am finally over my fear of intimacy?