The Party

I can't do two nights of blob activities.

We are already in the age of watered down communication due to technology.

I can do one night with blobs, but not two.

Let's sit around a hardwood top with brandy swirling in our glass

and say something

real.

No rehearsals. No trans fat.

Harken back to the organic days where people spoke out of curiosity, fear....

In grade school, we had no choice, but that was the best option.
You'd talk to another kid because they had a cool toy, cookies, or a pretty block for building
You had to TALK to this human creature
There was no way around it
Although it was the only way, it was the best way
Guess I could just send a text now

I can't even remember when I started being scared to be myself and scared to say what I meant.

It's been so long ago.


I dont think I really know the people I live with.
I can't see how you can be wholly content with smoking, playing sports games, and being confined to the same 4 walls you eat, shit, and sleep in.
I think the weed makes them lazy.

We were fucking kids man.

We used to go outside just to be with our other friends, to be out of the house.
We have more power over our schedule than before and we've regressed in that aspect of actually DOING shit with our time.
Now,
seems like we only step out for pussy or a roll up.

We don't even go out for food, just get delivery.

That's why I like drinking and making sure they drink, makes you so active,
so active you become inactive, stooped over near a toilet bowl, releasing your insides.
That's real. That's a guy (or gal) who knew their limit and chose to exceed.
That's one ambitious motherfucker who learned something tonight.
One ambitious motherfucker I'd love to buy a drink.

Later Days, Longer Nights

The Birds Landed on The Glacier in Spring

I finally opened the Charles Bukowski book Chanel bought me

And with that

,

I've found a bit more of myself.

Why is it that way?

Finding scattered remnants of who

You

Really

Are

In other things....

And with that, does being born or dying finish the puzzle set.
What if you lose pieces?
Maybe we're meant to be incomplete.

If I'm

Created in God's image

How can I resemble something so perfect

When I find only problems in myself.


This could be the last time I put on my shoes

or listen to music that I really don't like.

She's angry with me again & I think it's both of our fault.

People say fuck your heart, just entertain us.

I've been doing my own thing for a while

Yet everyone is screaming to take that route

So is it conforming now?


Your mind has more control over your body
Push as the whistle sings in the darkest night

She said she doesn't like who I am when I drink
I don't really like to drink myself
I only appreciate how it wakes me up

Later Days, Longer Nights