Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The truth about Fear?

It's all too real. No matter the volumes of confidence we own. Our own personal library.
Where is my movie? Scene by scene. Anxiously waiting for the director.

Then again. I could care less. Balance is on it's way though, I generally am like a little gymnast. Flippin'. Tossin'. Landin' on my feet. Choke your faith and fuel your fear?

Let's go. You strangely resemble Lieutenant Dan in Forest Gump. Legless, hanging on to the top of the boat, screaming. Challenging.

My favorite food? PB and J. Cut in a triangle. Searching out fruit and spiritual fullness.
Do you remember that song Steal Away? It's an 80's jam. Ronnie Dupree?

If I were a man, I would shoot my load all over your face. the word around town is it's low in calories.

I'm not ready. I'm not ready. Playing dress up. Let me reinstate. Not ready.

I'm hiding in the attic holding Raggedy Ann at gunpoint.

Hot in the ass according to Bev, Angie feverishly printing t-shirts as we speak.

Live with? Argue with?
Make up with?
Can't stand to be with them but want to be with them at the same time?

I'm not ready.

I walk, you lead.
Right smack dab into Sliding Doors.

Thank you 1997.

I want to be held. I want to be kissed.
I want rules with no boundaries.
I want to adore you close up, and be desperately far away.
Tell you when my feelings are hurt, or when you make me happy, and I feel good......

Run away, hard. Pounding the pavement to the point of ripping my ipod outta my ears and throwing it down...
Jump into your arms when it's pouring down the rain.... Like it's the last time I might ever see you again?
Look at you through the door.

Wonder why we get along so well?


Oh, shit. I have to reference my last journal? Maybe.

Complaining about things is just as effective as eating glass. It's just not to be done.

I am to be thankful. Prayerful. Hopeful.

Focused. On the waves. Even though blinding. Hypnotizing.

Last night, laying in bed, when I did catch a few zzz's, I woke up talking. Out loud.

About what? I don't know. A deaf dog heard nothing. He certainly feels me though.
Tiger was burrowed under the bed, snoring.

I opened my eyes. My legs almost felt like I had been walking, stopped dead in my tracks.

5:56. One minute late.

I have to be up super early tomorrow. 4:30. A.M. You read correctly.

4:30. Tonight I will probably sleep like a little lamb, impossible to wake up in the morning.
Or stay up. Anxious about oversleeping?

I do this thing, drum my hips? When I think. My thumbs are tired.

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