Date: Aug 4, 2009 5:14 PM
Subject: Spirit Bear,
Body: I did not mean to Pavlov you!


6h04PM. Yeah,yeah.
Body: I pine to be shy, for when I am undressed, there is nothing there, aside from the coloured flakes of brown rice, yeast, shrimp, oatmeal, gluten, fish oil, soybean, and algae, that I have picked up on my feet along the way; "For optimal health, color and vitality". Ingredients to bait. But, of course, where is my mind? These ingredients could never achieve me. I am no Pisces. No, no. I am only but a bull. Yes, a great whale of creature. Nay! Why must I continuously allude to a composition of salt water and foam? Truthfully, I am a mixture of red clay and sensibility. I have no force. I covet to have the force of the great waves. Oh, how I could drown a man in his own greed and appetite, with such impulse and power. But alas, I am only a feeble Taurean. How ironic. Even having a bull for a head, with the appeal of stubborn organs, could never help myself obtain fullness, let alone a tremble. Yes, I pine to be shy, for when I am undressed, there is nothing there.

I write too much nonesense.
This is what happens when I procrastinate, instead of doing my work.
The colours of this room are offensive. I get to leave the office now!
Groceries.



Date: Aug 1, 2009 11:27 AM
Subject: I ate too much of his omelette. Whew.
Body: With all my questions, all the nihilistic words in my head, I went in search of an answer, I went in search of the other world which I reached by digging underground, past the stones as solemn as preachers, past the roots, throbbing like veins, and went in search of some animal wisdom, and went in search, it could be said, of my (i.e. the one who carries you through). Down. Down. Down. There I found a mouse with trees growing out of his belly. She was all wise. she was mine. Yet she was silent. sHe did three things. sHe extruded a gourd of water. Then, I hit her on the head, gently, a hit more like a knock. Then she extruded a gourd of beer. I knocked once more, and finally a dish of gravy. Those were my answers. Water. Beer. Food. I was not satisfied. Though the mouse had not licked my leprous skin, that was my final answer. The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit. Water. Beer. Gravy. It simply had to be enough. Mine, who am I to reject the naming of foods in a time of famine?


I awoke earlier, and thought it was autumn. I'm not sure I want it to come, just yet.
I need to clean my room and shower within an hour!
Then, going off to Columbus to purchase items for next week!
Let's make it a good day, no?
Meow! =^-^=


Date: Jul 31, 2009 11:53 AM
Subject: 11h44PAM.
Body: Herbs, garlic, cheese, please let me in!
Souffles, salad, Parker House rolls, please let me in!
Cook Helen, why are you so cross, why is your kitchen verboten?
Couldn't you just teach me to bake a potato, to bake a potato, that charm, that young prince?
No! No!
"This is my country!" You shout silently.
Couldn't you just show me the gravy.
How you drill it out of the stomach of that bird?
Helen, Helen, let me in, let me feel the flour,
is it blinding and frightening, this stuff that makes cakes?
Helen, Helen, the kitchen is your dog, and you pat it, and love it, and keep it clean.
But all these things, all these dishes of things,come through the swinging door, and I don't know from where?
Give me some tomato aspic, Helen!
I don't want to be alone.

Classesshmashes!
I seem to have a messy laughter today.
One second, the sunlight is eating my bed alive, the next? It decides it wants to be the colour of ash.
I need to make myself breakfast!
Tobasscoyolksleavescreamofdairydough.
Then off with Sister.


*AM, haha.


Date: Jul 30, 2009 5:56 PM
Subject: Oh hi, it's time for my daily nonesense.
Body: Gavrilo Princip, you sure are ace, in comparison to the five other Black Hands!
My goodness! The events that spiraled are far too Mickey Mouse to even believe! Hahaha. History is easily becoming one of my favorites.
Seriously, read up on how the assasination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand actually took place, and you well have a good knee slapper, right there.
Don't read that Wikipedia nonesense, if you decide to though. It doesn't say anything about how everything really transpired.

A book would be your best bet.
Speaking of which, people need to read more often.

Honestly, what bothers me is how trendy kids call themselves readers and tell everyone about how "1984", "A Brave New World", "Catcher in the Rye", etc., etc., are the books they read. Uhm, come on, those are required in High School. You ought to actually read. Please and thank you. I can't stand people like that.

I am finally home after nine hours. Jesus!
Bring out the spring rolls and wine!
I am going to watch "A Streetcar Named Desire".
Hellllooooo handsome!

My car will finally have the turbo fixed in it by tomorrow!
No more crossing fingers, whilst going uphill.
Hallelujah!

It's been a good week!


Date: Jul 29, 2009 7:43 PM
Subject: Sexton, you have my esteem.
Body: Photobucket
God has a brown voice,
as soft and full as beer.
Eleanor, who is more beautiful than my mother,
is standing in her kitchen talking
and I am breathing in my cigarettes like poison.
She stands in her lemon-colored sun dress
motioning to God with her wet hands
glossy from the washing of egg plates.
She tells him! She tells him like a drunk
who doesn't need to see to talk.
It's casual but friendly.
God is as close as the ceiling.
Though no on can ever know,
I don't think he has a face.
He had a face when I was six and a half.
Now he is larg, covering up the sky
like a great resting jellyfish.
When I was eight I thought the dead people
stayed up there like blimps.
Now my chair is as hard as a scarecrow
and outsdie the summer flies sing like a choir.
Eleanor, before he leaves tell him...
Oh Eleanor, Eleanor,
tell him before death uses you up.


I ordered my plane ticket today...sigh.

I need to make dinner, now.

My night will consist of les mathes et l'histoire, and a nice bubble bath.


Date: Jul 29, 2009 1:40 PM
Subject: Oh hi, I found God.
Body: "I have a perfect horror of words that are not backed up by deeds."



I love this man. My goodness.


Date: Jul 27, 2009 4:05 PM
Subject: 4h09PM
Body: "What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter, because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks. You let me touch them, fondle the green faces, lick at their numbers and it lets you be my "Daddy!", "Daddy!", and though I fought all alone with molesters and crooks, I knew your money
would save me. Your courage, your "I've had considerable experience as a soldier...fighting to win millions for myself, it's true, but I did win," and me praying for "our men out there", just made it okay to be an orphan whose blood was no one's, whose curls were hung up on a wire machine and electrified, while you built and unbuilt intrigues called nations, and did in the bad ones, always, always, and always came at my perils, the black Christs of childhood, always came when my heart stood naked in the street, and they threw apples at it or twelve-day-old-dead-fish. "Daddy!", "Daddy," we all won that war. I knew you drove a pure gold car and put diamonds in you coke
for the crunchy sound, the adorable sound, and the moon too was in your portfolio, as well as the ocean with its sleepy dead. And I was always brave, wasn't I? I never bled? I never saw a man expose himself. No. No. I never saw a drunkard in his blubber. I never let lightning go in one car and out the other. And all the men out there were never to come. Never, like a deluge, to swim over my breasts, and lay their lamps in my insides. No. No. Just me and my "Daddy", and his tempestuous bucks, rolling in them like corn flakes,
and only the bad ones died. But I died yesterday, "Daddy," I died, swallowing the Nazi-Jap animal, and it won't get out. It keeps knocking at my eyes, my big orphan eyes, kicking! Until eyeballs pop out, and even my dog puts up his four feet and lets go of his military secret, with his big red tongue flying up and down, like yours should have."

I feel like I am going to be sick.
Blah. God awful sick.

I am tired of having classes all morning and afternoon, every day.
Errands with Mama.
Dinner downtown.
Homework. Yikes. Exam! :/
Long bath soak.
Read the numerous books I have been assigned to finish in two weeks time.
Sleep.
Dream.
Wake up.
Repeat.


Date: Jul 26, 2009 4:04 PM
Subject: Tralalala.
Body: I once fell in love with you, just because the sky turned from grey into blue.
It was a good friday; The streets were open and empty.
No more passion play on St. Nicholas Avenue.
I believe in St. Nicholas; It's a different type of Santa Clause.

I don't want this weekend to end.
I have been inside of this makeshift cotton canopy fort for two days.
The dictionary fell on top of my head, and I started singing songs en francais! I taught Baby Sister how to pronounce the words and she sang along :]
I am all of out Orangina! Grrr! Oh well, the pizza rolls make up for it.
It's been quite a lovely time! And it is about to get even better!

:]


Why am I always in constant renewal?