st_eve_bc

of course I am over reacting to the bad habits of someone else, what else is there to be completely melodramtic, mellow out. dont piss your pants your not going to get fired, your thick skull should protect you if you and when you slip and fall

the subtleties of life are like the sounds of deer making tracks or subtitles in black instead of white or yellow

indistinguishable when blocked out by other things

thoughts memories



:::

how can I help?

::

It might break me to try, crossing the pencil thin line between love and hate by comparing apples to oranges, looking both ways before crossing the street before coming to a culdisac, could be spelled differently could be that nothing is fully concieved, we are born with a soft spot on the back our heads, why is that, I suppose there is a lot of pressure inside the womb

ascention to light, deliver me from my skin into a new beginnin not unlike what is the passing the end

suicide is the ultimate guilt well I suppose killing in general

your on trial, representing the prosecution, the key witness, the judge and 12 angry men, women and child star sworn in by the almighty voice of doubt bellowing in between the ears, a tin shed shaking from the earth quake tipping the scales of justice in favour of fleeing the crime scene, your life

oh it is fucking hard to understand

maybe that was my dad writing that

maybe I am vain enough to try to approach it certain of these words

maybe I am in my own world again and this is all I have to pass through time

I am certain we are all moving at the same speed, the same plane, the same atmosphere, with our micro, macro, multi platinum cosisms, cultures, cities, slabs of granite shit

drip drop it , I am in awe at those who seemingly drop jems like they have holes in their pockets, barman

those who wink incandescently at blurry shutterspeed which is simiutaniously creepy like a snails face

maybe everything is made in new york city

maybe god is reading pornography in a light house while his her its sheep groan gestate sleep trot bump hop over fences into ketchup sauce smoke stacks and lackluster love affairs


maybe it was all a dream to be anything other then constantly self amused

i really like itunes, the practicality of its design and interface is reallly annoyingly intuitive

i really like people when we are doing something, not necesarrily anything yet not necessarily wanting to be doing something else

I like the idea of elves and unicrons, demons with horns yet I do not fear the rapture, yet i do not expect divinity, yet it does seem like a big ol mess of heaping shit in which we toil about

I like the woods the mountains and the sea

I like cake

the name kato, cage, valorie and soda popinksy

my last sexual encounter was 24 hours prior to the end of my last monogimous resiprocated cohabitating dating months from champagne sipped under a delicate veil mailing out thank you cards sort of thing

its still some what perplexing that my mom wanted to and bought the ring from me, keep it in the family

why - she wanted jewelry

I remember her telling me that her ring was stolen

I kind of think my dad sold it, pawned it tried to pawn mine after everything went the way it did, its a bad deal, i didnt,

its extremely shitty how much money they will offer you

pawning is so incredibly pathetic

i have sold things that really had a better place to be

and i really was not all that prepared to keep

now its a thing i did, not thinking of doing, one day i would like to think i could buy all of it back

whats the use in trying to do something that lacks sincerity

consenting to let yourself be fogotten fused to someone something someplace that isnt a complimentary element to your existance

i dont care to much for bullshit, If i am a matador a clown a cult memeber then i am drownding in sorrow somewhere inside

If i am riding a wave grounded in rain forest or at the bottom of the ocean i am certainly still a perfectly flawed human being

its interesting how little comes out of so many words i can carry

buried alive in temporary compliments, put to fire by my ricocheting lies, torn to shreds by the noise pollution in my head, picked apart by the vultures of killing time


money doesnt grow on trees, unless your a monkey, a clump of bananas is a healthy trust fund