Parched
Yo this is mad random,
and I really don't give a shit.
Damn it's dry up there in my domepiece. I wanna expunge something out of this brain of mine, but seems to be quite quiet in there. My art, be it poetry, photos, drawing, sewing, whatver, is usually a way for me to purge the ongoings in my mind. But theres nothing there and lately seems like a waiting game for the transition I'm in to pass. I can do nothing but concern myself with the newest
Six Feet Under episode or the plans I'm trying to make to get my black ass and daughter back up in the scholarly mix. Movement abounds again as I patiently anticipate the middle of this month where we will be in a new apartment, in a new building, in a new part of town. So I sit here soaking up my last minutes and hours being sweetly pacified by the high speed internet connect I will soon have to part ways with for a little while. Any other day or time I would be vexed by the soon coming detachment from my regular loitering on the internet. But I think I'm due for a breather. So these post are soon to be few and far between for a little while as I adjust to the next phase. And my thoughts are dry or more like sterile. My mood has been emotional to say the lease. There is this lonliness that seems to be stalking me like death. I wanna write. I wanna write something poliical, observational bout human behavior. Alas, there is nothing for me to express but this inner contempt that is like sandpaper etching away scratches and burns on an old antique coffe table thats waiting for the shalack and high gloss. Cause I be dull and I don't care. I wade though the feelings that I've been burrying in the abnormal cells I await to be extracted from my insides. I wanna draw. But the visions are blindfolded by my knotted realities. All I can do is try to get the knots apart. So I look forward to the 4 hour drives back and forth from this pseudo-city to the farm. Daydreaming bout kicking it with my baby brother. Staring at the cumulous clouds. I await the broken line in the road...so I CAN PASS, damnit. Leaving the slow sunday drivers biting my dust, as I zone on my ambitions as a ridah. WTF a solid double yellow line? To pack or not to pack...that is the question, du jour. Do I really need all these fuckin clothes? Gas cost to gatdamn much. Shit my brain is the eye of a hurricane, quiet waiting for the impending turmoil. So no, I really dont have nufin to say. At lease there won't be a 103 degree heat index today. Okay I know I'm boring the shit outta y'all if not writing some totally mindlessness. Lemmie get back to purcolating.
I need to drink more H2O
EDIT:
A la FREEWILL ASTROLOGY
(one of my bizarre favorites)
SAGITTARIUS (November 22-December 21)
A few weeks ago I went to the Warped Tour, an outdoor music festival featuring 80 hard-core rock and punk bands on ten different stages. Pummeled nonstop in mosh pits full of flailing dancers in the 100-degree heat, basking in the blasts of guitars, drums, and vocals roaring at jet-engine volumes, showered by saliva and sweat from the frenzied musicians, I had a religious experience. On the one hand, unbridled chaos seemed to be raging all around me. On the other hand, I felt perfectly safe and thoroughly entertained. I was also serenely amused by the knowledge that everyone was there primarily to play and have fun. That's what I wish for you in the coming days, Sagittarius: a knack for putting yourself in the enjoyable eye of the human hurricane.
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HMMMMMMMMMMMMM?!beameupscotty.
