Stagnant.
In a room with four walls.
Someone once told you that there were only three.
The fourth one is discretionary.
Like your income.
And your words.
They're always spilling out of you
  in an urgent attempt
To fill the vast distances
Between your miniscule existences.
But considerably more puzzling
  is the true purpose of your storytelling.
Vowels and consanants strung together
Wrap tightly around your indefinite spirit.
Swaddling it up as one would a newborn baby.
Leaving you stifled.
Mummified.

Sleeping is optional

Tell me about the intricate patterns that weave your reality when you're drifting off to sleep. Swaying from consciousness into a world of infinite possibility. Are you alone? Do you think of her? The beautiful woman who once promised you ten thousand lifetimes of everything. She promised to hold your hand and steady you across the stepping stones in the river of consumerism, to the glistening quartz crystal home you built together on the other side.

A haven where brightly colored threads dress the walls. A tapestry of the hardships and the challenges you endeared; together. So many quiet nights by the fire where you braided miles of this yarn, creating an irreplacable showpiece that you hung in the living room as a monument of the trials and tribulations you everlasted.

You promised to laugh at it later, because these struggles seem so miniscule now. On a sofa dressed in compasses. With a design of yellowing maps, and a scarlet trail marking the journey that you suffered. She placed tiny brass push pins to mark every spot along the riverbed where you consumated your love.

Sometimes one pricks you in the bottom when you are readjusting yourself in your blanket. Your eyes close, and suddenly you're there again. With her, and she is flawlessly illuminated by sunlight. A painfully marvellous statue of fertility draped loosely in a white sheet. Frolicking in a bed of lilies as she kisses you on the forehead and tells you that you are her universe. This is the true meaning of our existence, she whispers.

Unattainable.

3 Legged Race

You may find that my eye is a one way mirror.
I see your soul,
And it's reflection is projected
Softly back at you.
We connect in my gaze
And you fall in love with the reproduction.
As we grow to become one,
You never knew I existed.

Silent Predator

Perched upon my branch, the universe becomes my playtoy. A heart becomes mud in my hands, easily manipulated. I can easily bend distort it for my entertainment.

Irrelevant addition:

Offensive words from my gal pal Courtney Love:

"Slide me open and suck my scars"

Guns Make Small People Feel Big

When did the abstract get replaced with concrete? Don't dream; invest. Don't explore; achieve. When did we decide that real life encounters could be duplicated in front of a blackboard? How did quality of life become based on income? Don't love; succeed.

"How do you know that you're really alive?" - Jim Morrison

Just bein gals

Sand Won't Make A Home

In the battlefield of broken hearts, in Pacific City, the earth pulsates with it's sorrows. And we're all in it together, but we just can't figure out what each one needs. We all melt into her but everything is not just so. Everything is aching but we just can't manage to keep warm. And, paralyzed by fear and self loathing, the only thing we feel is her pulsing admiration. And every home we've ever made was already broken and leaves us. Everything will one day leave us so we push it all away. And nothing gold can stay. But here we learn that we've never known true love, and she hands us a second chance at life.

DONT PUT SUGAR IN YOUR COFFEE!!!!!!!

Ketamine: A Date Rape Drug

Ketamine effects take two different forms: physical and mental ketamine effects. Ketamine effects are most detrimental to the mental aspect of the user. Ketamine effects are devastating. At the same time the ketamine effects are destructive they are also seductive. People enjoy the drug for the same reasons that it is affecting them negatively. Ketamine is a dissociative anesthetic. This means that the drug allows them to disassociate themselves from their own consciousness. This is what is known as the near death feeling. The slang term for the near death feeling is "k-hole". This is the desired ketamine effect.

My life is a giant K-hole.

Might as well enjoy it :)

Something I Don't Know Much About

My favorite new discovery about love is that it's best when it's forceful. Most love obediently because they're afraid of being hurt. What would hurt me most would be sitting there quietly while love sneaks away, instead of lunging to tackle it like a wild animal. How lifeless it is to be loved in this fashion. We're better off alone. To be loved makes me feel illuminated like when the sun's beams fall onto my bare skin.

Where do we take comfort in this mess that is living? A tired and tangled maiden, she can be unraveled to seep to new depths. Pale face cradled beneath a sheer lace. This veil of loneliness has been handed down through generations. How much can be discovered in one lifetime? Love and sunshine.. is there a difference? Both pour light into her wounds and make it hurt to look away from her.

Time=Money=Zilch

Time. Money. Both are cunts. What is the mechanism for measuring these quantities? A mere concept created by mankind out of fear. (Sidenote: Bras were also created by fear). Too many things molded by fright when they should be fueled by looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove.