Chances are

Slim to none. Odds are stacked.

The borders of my imagination, suffers. All I gotta do is live with the knowledge stored up in me. Consistently trying. Sometimes I feel like a fool for the way I feel, but all I can do is emote what is happening, or the way I see it. My perception is not like yours. So that makes me special. It keeps my eyes big in hope and dual frustration. Teetering on the balance of falling off my feet. Or day tripping through the daises too much. Not even my darkest secret could throw me off the horse. Just that imaginary rattlesnake. Not THAT one, the one next to it.

Sometimes my words come out WAY too melancholy for others to comprehend. This is my nature. Utterly ignorantly happy in my spasms of euphoria. Battled to the ground with your perception, just as equal to mine. Only you had to google your opinion. I sit ripe with guilt and absolute irritation.

Feeling a touch patronized for airing the facts. The facts of life. And, Tootie just isnt present. I feel unbelievably vicious, which humanizes me just a tad further. Its my private joy. To be understood in the mist of all your pessimistic attitudes.

She said it would be just fine to wash out the egg shells. And, I value her opinion. I hold it close to my psyche. We all need a person who fuels our fires. Artistically and with an open mind. It also helps to be on the same path. I JUST hate getting lost in the woods.

Or falling on the electric fence.

That s.o.b was TURNED UP!


Im learning to exagerate just a litle more, but only about cold hard facts. This is my one facet I need to shine your eyes with. Im sure your vision could return within the week. I hope so.
I essentially closed my eyes and worried for nothing. My gratitude was overwhelming, and its so unfortunate it wasnt noticed. (Insert "Poor Unfortunate Souls here.) I liked Ursula. But only for the whole power trip thing. You know me, on the coattails of the bullies. (Here I am french kissing BOTH eels.)


Eyes red from staying up late and anxiously waiting to get to write it out..... the morning is my battle. Not the night. On the river known as denial. The water is a beautiful shade of plum.


he mentioned how I have aged well. Due to all the sleeping and napping. And lack of others draining the unbearable life out of me. I look like a brand new Barbie doll. Except, it would be okay for Holli to cut my hair off. Just you let her.

Im working on not assuming things. Im working on the natural order. I m working on going with my gut. Im suppressing my smile in order to save your ego. Its fancy and cat and mouse. Rather than eating the ham sandwich under the trap, I would go hungry.


And I do quite well with it.


I suppose its the thirst that drives me mad. It may have been a little much. Putting on the show. Presumption showing its ugly teeth in the cave. How could it have happened? I had only one drink!!!! This is the spiral.

It only takes one.


Spark of magic, let the torment begin. Remind me why everything felt so far away? They grow up way too fast. Our pitiful excuse for a brain that is. Once it turns into jello its hard to put it in a helmet. Always use protection.

I know its just a head.

Just ahead though, is right around the bend.


It turns out, youre just as emotionally handicapped as the rest of us. Claiming your condition doesnt make you any more sexy. Owning the fact you are living on medication, and believing such things as delusional unicorns having picnics on my lap, wouldnt count either.

So cut the shit. I know the game.

Be the animal. Live the animal.


It only takes practice.