put the pipe down, they say.  we're too punk rock.  we'll take your jacket.  dip it into the bottom of the barrel.  tastes like jack daniels.  the whole world's on a giant tweak.  it's in the papers, movies, commercials.  we're getting dumber and more impatient.  we can live our llives without ever stepping out of our house and not be anti-social.  we've no use for legs anymore, we're glued to our seats.  our fingers grow longer and the night's get shorter.  with so many gadgets that save time, why do we all lack it?

Unnatural.  the foods we eat.  no trans-fats, we're saturated.  Smart people get birth control and dumb people just fuck.  everything's safetyed now, no natural selection. 

     let me lick your toenails.  we'll do alright.  the night is thick, no longer, transcluscent.  the stars are embedded, embroidered, but not bright enough tonight.

 

     I lay here, naked and amazed.  Blankets thrown askew.  I believe it too. 

 

 

**********some amount of hours and drugs later**************

 

and you are too much like me, and I like everyone else.  We float along in rainclouds dripping in energies.  My mind is fuzzy and confused, my eyes can feel it too.  too many things to do.  deposit the damage.  flush.  time to move.  a whirlpool.

     I swirl.  money flakes off from everything   it's raining green.  you love me I'm complete.  birth control controls the aching.  no more ovaries separating.  inside I'm still kindof debating. 

but when you look at me and your eyes burn blue, and happiness flows from every part of you, I no longer feel imbued.  I'm glued to you.  I love you too.

     RAIN.  fog.  it's all so distorted now.  the drrugs, the rent, they float in brown paper boats, while little toy plastic men pretend to set sail, for a land far better suited than here.

 

**********insert flailed drawing of a vagina boat here*********

 

march 15 2009.  (a workday, near-death experience and some more drugs later)

 

i don't fuckin supply to minors.  fog.  distorted glances.  & I am just like you.

shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot.  we've come undone, only held by glue.  defense.  defense.  NO More need to defend.  we're swimming in euphoria.  riding a high.  at the bottom we'll lie naked and hungry.  sprawling out in black sewn-up sheets.  Break another lightbulb baby, we don't need the heat.

sufficed.  the shards of ice we melt it mimics the hearts' stored inside chests, ribcages, beating rapidly, sweating, falling in love.  five broken seashells darling, I pulled out from the sand.  like a large blanket, it wrapped it's grains around me, and the sun was shining really warm that day.  I could still feel you laying next to me.  dreaming.  reminiscing.  repeating the same routines, your same spiels.  You're excited.  I'm euphoric.  together we share a moment.  a long one.  a calm one.  a fiery one.  and then another.  lather.rinse. repeat.

     we're free.

 

***some hours and drugs later******

 

and I can't tell if the need for control is increasing or decreasing.  I'm comfortable.  I'm un-aware.  smoke drifts off into the shadows of my throat.  my mouth is sore.  and my boyfriend never shuts up on this shit.   *long laugh*  this would be the perfect time for a long stroll <s>across</s> along a river shore.  just one more.  taste.  tongue.  love.  shove.  bed.  together.  and we all laugh.  Get high, it's the game of life.  We flail.  bored.  but totally amused.  imbued.  crystalizing all our blues.  the techno hears it too.

drum and bass all begging for a response.  instead we get disassociation.  over-stimulation.  overwhelmed with aimless motivation.  we pace, we <s>chat</s> speak.  discommunicate iwth ease.

Im self-sentered and absorbed, the king of my own world.  and you lay on the backgrounds, keeping my bed warm. once in a while.  but it's nice and I melt into you.  turn me into glue.  we just sit and enjoy each other's company . and euphoria.

              euphoria .

 

 

******a workdaY Or something i dunno... later on... binging... no sleep and more drugs later******************

 

dude I was so high at work today, haven't slept ,I smoked some More and will return for my  friday shift in 10 hours  11 hours .

Vince is mad flailing.  Vincemad@hotmail.com

indeed.    Once there were flowers woven  into baskets that we carried around with our trinkets, and other female things.  Deep down inside my stomach is rumbling and my mind is distracting it from the memories of the lack of food it's injested recently.   I love my cats. meow. 

   decisions and desparations.  everyone seems to throw love around these days.  I'm sick.  I'm twisted.  there's nothing quite like the feel of something new.  Probably just making as much sense as him too.  I wonder if smoking more jib would help.  or make it worse.

 Maybe 4AM is just a bad time for my high.  STuck in the middle of 2 days excursions.  NOthing to do but sit here or wander the empty streets at night.

 

***********insert random drawing of doors, and several hours and points of meth********************

 

     everything happens for a reason, right?

just shut up and deal, pocket kings, or jacks.

10 bucks , one hundred per bet . cards become my lifeline, my rent's on hold to lease . I keep my sanity, I count the cards.  relax ,relief.  I'll be okay.  "as much as it seems to bother me,  I'm alright with it "

     Definitive deductions.  ten thousand doors to chose from.  solid gold.  We want you off junk but wont help you out.  We <s>wont</s>don't want your needles so we'll burn down your soul.  We wont stop til you're off.  You've got to quit smoking.  Dead. death.  sweet sweat and seduction.  I know why you're here , put your life on the line .  Your smile calms the tension ,  twenty bucks for your time  .

     the sick green stench of disease sweeps through the streets, businessmen and douchebags drop to their feet .  The junky's don't notice, asleep without sheets.  The failure is haunting, we all need release.   Disguised as a regular, busy, "productive" city street.

 

 

(white is the color of eternity)

 

--->>IF IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THERE, WHY WOULD YOU LOOK AT IT?<----

 

           ***some fucking time break here i don't know what****

           

 

         it all comes back to rock-n-roll, I'm palpitating.  though the edge of death isn't half as exhilerating as it used to be.  it's weak.  been awake almost forty hours now on pure meth-amphetamines.  the world is inconsistent.  fuzzy multi-bright colored lines gather round what i reckon the real world is.  and oh music.  I absorb and expel the life and things around me.  My heart feels alive for the first time in a long time.  A year, maybe.  it pounds inconsistantly inside my chest , constantly re-announcing it's presence.  But I am awake.  I'm in no Shape for decisions and inquisitions.  The sun has risen again.  These are powerful amphethamines.  I feel an outburst of motivation to do something,but my body feels resistant to movement.  I just feel.  and release.  I feel a deep sense of tunnel-visional awareness traped inside a general un-awareness.  Prying through the doors feels a tremendous effot.  I am resistant to change.  I want to keep feeling this way.  for vince.  I hope.  I fear, being used. 

"But this time I think it's different, I mean, I really think you like me."

 

*********insert poem and end**********