I'm not ignoring you and I'm not being rude. You're on the phone. I'm okay with that. The reason that I'm writing now is because I just really wanted to write something.

repost = compost

Maybe Deja-Vu Is...

That somebody in an alternate universe is reading that book about you, the comic book or watching your movie and either had to re-read that sentence, chapter, etc. or rewind to the last part before the phone rang or having to feed the dogs.

You

are lemonade
and I am the hot, summer day.

My Eyes And Soul May Be Tired...

but the fingertips itch a bit
and I have so much to say
and
I'll never be able to get it all down

I've written about this for years

Stop Being A 3===D

One of these days it will all make sense.
One of these days I'll miss these days.
One of these days I'll be better than before.
One of these days I'll be in Ireland.
One of these days I'll go back in time and make it all right.
One of these days I'll remember everything.
One of these days I'll breath deep
and
It'll be too late
to look back.

Atari Teenage Riot...

Took all of my action figures out of their packages.

I know.

Pig.

If I had a dollar for every pen that I've stolen from work - then I'd have a lot of money and a lot of pens.

...

I was getting ready for work and sat down in my chair to put on my shoes and thought that I sat on my dog.

But then I remembered that I didn't have a dog anymore.

The District Sleeps Tonight..

I just started to write three totally different things and saved them all for later.

But I'm fine, thank you.

Dandy.

Fat Free Milk.

I like talking now.

A Collection of Abject Musings ...

I think I could do this for the rest of my life. I just opened a beer and have adjusted myself properly in my chair. Guitars and violins are running through choruses to my left outside my door. Really. It’s amazing to live in a house filled with musicians. They’re wheeling in a xylophone now. It’s also raining – can you believe that?

I know I’ve written about it before but for every bad day there are days like these. Completely wasted, lazy days or nights with no ambitions. Nothing but the next five minutes of your life planned. Floating, vaporous days turned into solid joy.

I spent a year watching sunsets in my old place on Commonwealth, spent years walking my dog in the vast park at the old house and maybe in this house, after all of the heartache, confusion and mistakes I’ve made – maybe what I’ve been practicing slowly will finally turn into one big smile instead of the minutia of tiny smiles that I’ve accumulated here. Maybe in the next place, I’ll look back fondly on days exactly like today.

Kmalo

So, I was going to tell you about how I needed more time to myself in front of the computer and maybe to write and needed a little bit more time to get work out of system and that my friend, Pat invited me down to his work and I thought that it would be nice to get out of the house because everybody else seemed to be doing something either interesting or NON and why not, eh?

And as I was about to write this, he just texted me to come down and I think I might so I better hurry up.

I just wrote this post in two minutes, me thinks.

Bye.

Lovelove

Just Found This On Somebody Else's Website?

I barely remember writing this. Neat.

Bye.

fatfreemilk@gmail.com

There will never be enough time to

A Journey - By Edward Field

When he got up that morning everything was different:
He enjoyed the bright spring day
But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.


And walking down the street to the railroad station
Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks
It was a long time since he had breathed so simply.


Tears filled his eyes and it felt good
But he held them back
Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.


Waiting on the platform at the station
The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:
The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.


And in its time it came screeching in
And as it went on making its usual stops,
People coming and going, telephone poles passing,

He hid his head behind a newspaper
No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes
To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric.


He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined.

He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down
A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open,

And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train:
And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on
He walked, himself at last, a man among men,
With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered.

Nothing makes you feel weirder and older
than singing in a laundry room with a gaggle of underage girls
Thank you for the Disney songs, kids
Thank you for saying that you thought that I was twenty-five
and maybe no thank you for saying that I looked like Luke Perry from 90210

I shouldn't have been there, I guess.

You forgot your Gnome.

We have more bikes in the backyard than monthly visitors now.

Tonight, the moon was bigger than I've ever seen it before.

My ears have been plugged up for days.