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there's a bottlecap under the couch - 2000-02-20
Whateva. Whateva whateva whateva whateva. The room is filled with wax, and redness... So are my eyes, I think... Quite the day. Quite the life. Yes indeed. I think this would be much easier if I could actually keep my eyes OPEN, and on the screen. Looking at the screen is like putting my retinas in a frying pan. Crash and burn, all the stars explode tonite. Tonight, not tonite. I think this would be much easier if I felt like writing something that would make sense to an average person. Fly, fly to a place not too far, where all of my friends live, and sing and drink tea... Tea with flavour, even. And this place is devoid of loneliness and fear. It is bee-youtifull. And she grinned, as she said "that's a good idea". Lay me down in the river, let the water flow over me. Wash away those tears. And somethings are best left alone, and sometimes I'm best left alone and sometimes, I see you in the water at night. At night at night at night at night. So, I've never quite felt the way I do right now. I've never quite felt such a clash with in myself. It's nice cause it's fun and necessary and beautiful (ugly). But sometimes it makes me nautious, and sometimes it makes me push beauty through bowels, and the beauty is covered in steaming, festering shit. Although it never digests well. It is always intact. All it needs is a good rinsing and dissinfecting and it's good as new. Sparkly. Lovely. Time to go, I think... Tine and time again. Time flows like a river, always forwards. Why can't a river just stop? Why can't the waters stop and relish the beauty of the rocks and the shores? Why? Lay me down in the river, let the water flow over me. Wash aways those tears. She said she said she said. See you tomorrow. Goodnight. Thanks. I don't ever want to return to work. Ever.
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