WE THOUGHT BUT DIDNT SPEAK

where my dawwgs at

where my dawwgs at

i don know we so corybantic//i could play your mother match her antics//

but youd forget me anyway// thats the for sure way// got make sure not to give none away//

but where's she go// it's all over then// before it starts you beat the heart//

portmanteau i cant breath, friend

RIEN DE RIEN

:maintenant que la glace est rompue, causons

^haha

if you grow up in phnom penh you have a 75% chance of having used meth by the age of 18 and a ~50% chance of being addicted to it

there is all these blogs out here in blogworld and these blogs are lil psychological cross-sections is so cool and very moving too:

not many, but, http://sforde.blogspot.com/, cranberry oak, is a litter of darling emotional depth and selfreflective dissonance

tinydancer, i couldnt narrow down a best of her blorgs so here's her profile all this is precisely the shay the internet was made for

i wonder if anyone i know has ever felt 'nature was screaming in my blood' but the prolly ha'nt: katie definilly has

it's like unfettered self-expression http://mkevans09.blogspot.com/ it's like rain on your wedding day!

And if you don't like it than fuck you jack.

hey

self-transcendence whatthefuck does that even mean jack

-There are a number of people clustered in a certain age group who are quite taken with the fact that I once uttered the immortal line "I have ridden the mighty moon worm!"-

FUTURESHOCK: you know when you go to a nother country you get culture shock? whambam thanka you maam

EEeMDFL

detka! detka! detka?

-Saint Etienne's Bob Stanley says of his effort that he believes London's old cafes play a crucial part in the city's life. "London is more and more segregated," he says. "Starbucks doesn't have all different sorts of people mixing. But in the proper London cafe you'll get City workers, workmen, bohemians, all together - all sorts of people, especially in the cafes that have been around for generations."

prexactly! thas why they're so mildmannered n idea-exchangey, awrrright

proclaim! this shit is gold and i am its translator

arrest! this shit is gold and i am its translator

beware! this shit is gold and i am its translator

beknownst! this shit is gold and i am its translator

undress! this shit is gold and i am her lover

pd putting serge-ee-oh feels shitty

i'n frm a place jacent t' whur da crowd stans Whur aww da witches r fayyaproof n ever preacha's a madman

the original bobby brown(ing)

BWAHH BWAHH BWAHH BWAHH

i'm deficially claiming my major as psychonautics wouldn that be cool

compartmentalization -> departmentalization/ -> fragmentation?

is it practical to compartmentalize and subsequently departmentalize those little fragmented psyches?

i like that then arrange the little compartments artfully and their synthesis is pretty:

see clearly the theory of less is more!

daily feel good or day they feel good

Do *people* ever write *love* stories about validation? the love of one invalid to another? because this is the story this is the "way" (the way-it-is). series of validations and recognitions and -connaissances.

one brewin up in here up in here and it's about 'karl karl karl' so 'ever ee buddy' he is, and some girl x who has net yet to be constructed but she's very postmodern and everything is very postmodern she her identity is n/a because she is too n/a to be recognized by any other single identity, a forest cannot recognize a tree in a mirror but only a forest, and so too her mother and her girlfriend and her bestfriend are benign in their love

thus! karl karl karl the embodiment of everyone that he is, their love and recognition and carnal relatskinships, their reflection(ss), unjudged in his eyes yield the recognition of herself in his (upon-closer,intimate-inspection-affected) pupils: as she too is no body, but repercussions and/of individual's-deconstruction ("thrift stores" urban apparel borrow`ed clothes)

-characters' so ill-defined so unfortunate so amalgamated: does the piston see itself in the mirror or can only the four-stroke be seen (if we're looking for consumerism ignition, does then one of this pistons burst and disengage and rust in the countryside(or the ocean)),

does the wine see only her bottle?

::fastforward, time travel, 180 halfcab nosemanuel: that's maya angelou up there she's smarter wiser everything cerebral'r than the previous people

i've ever heard speak, and i had lunch with john mccain.

she talks about communication and that's what i like and she uses and bottle metaphor which is what else i lykke. i'm using maya angelou

i'm feeling wretched right now do you know wretched? it comes from "wretch" which meant adventurer at some point, and then got turned into "exilee." isnt that a good story? that word has a better story than a lot of people

FEMINISM//JESSIE//ALEXAM//SUKI (fourth, four: ...the importance of the woman! ie the usercomment):

brief interview #46

"Alls I was trying to say is you have to be careful of taking a knee-jerk attitude about violence and degradation in the case of women also. Having a knee jerk attitude about anything is a total mistake, that’s what I’m saying especially in the case of women, where it adds up to this very limited condescending thing of saying they’re fragile or breakable things and can be destroyed so easily. Like we have to wrap them in cotton and protect them more than everybody else. That it’s knee-jerk and condescending. I’m talking about dignity and respect, not treating them like they’re fragile little dolls or whatever. Everybody gets hurt and violated and broken sometimes, why are women so special?"

pray for the ppl inside yer head

-:-a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation

what matters most is how well you rock through the fire [shralp]

-It/s in his/ nature/ you know-

I met a vixen recently.

"What?" gulp,

Yeah, that kind of specter that incarnates every dousand years and only for the minutiae of a memory zipped-by on the freeway, shotgunned up there in some unknowable way.

"What?"

What? She luscious "if you know what I mean" in my head and in my hands. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to love her "like the broncos," his socks slip out, leaving must behind; rubber-soled, they ferment beneath his hairy calves, but my blood's all filled-up and I want it to mingle.

"Yahh too bad it won't work out"

Why not?

Why is is it so close so consistently? What is the gray area? What does it feel like with a grizzly bear and a mirror? "Englightened"

livedlike a fucking-Aladdeen

:: i used to watch all them all auld cowboy movies or even those kungfu movies and they would talk about living handtomouth and i was always thinking how sweeet and rad and untempered they must be but no it's balls and it's miserable and there's a reason milton wrote a book called paradise lost three hundy years ago, but don't call it a comeback