memory is a funny thing

the british are coming! the british are coming!

holy coconuts, batman!

there are three little bits missing from the surface of my kitchen counter. a few years back, we bought a coconut. and we couldn't get it open. so we pulled out the hammer, and a nail, and missed the coconut at least three times.

on living... a masterpiece or just a mess

for the past month or so, life has been glorious. the kind of summer that just says to you, "i am summer. hear me roar." living out of my car, moving with the breeze. lovely breeze.
i've kind of been embracing my artistic side, too. drawing. writing. snapping pictures. making music. learning. loving.

and then everything stopped.

it's not about the way he looks. it's about what's inside. and inside is gold too. for me, inside was a wall. i thought if i could loosen up, let down that wall... but all i did was warp the wall. i couldn't let him in. and now too much has happened. he doesn't know me. i don't know me.

what a mess.

thoughts

slowly, steadily, pavement disappears beneath my feet
conquered by each step

there, a house
i wonder for who lives in it
so much life i do not know

pick up the pace

car passes my thoughts
she rushes to find
what she will soon forget

racing myself
i long to see the place unconsumed by need
unconsumed by greed
solitary
secluded
sanctuary

a spider spins her torturous web
she knows only this tree, and that bush
not loss, or lust
i wonder about love

i run away
i run towards
i run to run
i stop