Yes...

Scrabble belongs in your bar.

So, shut it.

The Spaces Available In My Heart Are More Important Than My MySpace...

I'm packing on new days like a fine layer of moth wing dust.
Please treat me gently.
I may seem ugly.
But.
Regardless.
I might be beautiful in your hands?
Maybe a delicacy to some in other parts of the world.
Or a pest.
I can fly when I want to.
I can bite you when you sleep.
You can easily squash me, smoosh me or preserve me in a jar.

I'm attracted to your glow, though.

Be gentle, fucker.

Leaves Of house...

Get up, get up
says your trainer

I feel tired
you say
please
just let me
lay down

Oh, no, no, no, you big pussy
you're much stronger than that
why do you think you're here
in the first place?

Because I never knew what else to do?

Exactly, asshole
now let me stop that bleeding
keep your guard up
and punch, jab, punch, jab

He must be tired
you say
please
just let him
lay down

That's it, that's it
says your trainer

Each Day...

Each day is like a unique fingerprint, a strand of DNA, a snowflake.

Each night has been a "day"mare, a slow trudge through sucking muck, a lance splintered into the soft flesh and steel of charging calvary.

Today and all the days before this one have been tough and far too easy to bend and shape to my dreams if maybe I wasn't so whimsical and soft.

I have an atrophied heart stricken with bouts of emotional Tourettes Syndrome and a will made of petrified Silly Putty.

I am me, just like before. Stronger and weaker - for better or for worse.

I don't miss myself or miss my missed opportunities.

I just want more hits as I'm swinging and a lot less misses, Missus.

Love and kisses.

Yes, This Site Is Boring.

I know this.

But, at least it's FREE boredom.

As Far As This Last Year Goes...

I want this next one to be totally Boo Radley as opposed to this years horrific Liberace naked jumping into a pool.