waxing poetical...or just waxing
2002-11-27 ~ 8:24 a.m.

ahh, well if i didn't just wax poetical...

dripping bright drops of scarlet on your doorstep...

only to be smeared and turned to rusty flakes of memories blown away in a good gale...

such is me.

no mind. i will play the role i am dressed for.

and don't a single one of you say i am being too vague. what would you have me say really? do you really want to know?

i thought i did once too.

i was wrong.

but may it be posted here for all to note...comrade said "you were right. you were right about it all."

not that the two are at all related...but even still.

and as for the rest...there is a bathroom door and a damn good cheese omelette at the cafe brazil on cedar springs that fixes most of it anyway.

so don't think, depite the chill in my heart and bones that has resonated outwards in to, the air is making my teeth chatter.

yeah, i might not use them as ms. jones

would have liked...but my commas serve a function you know. *grin*

anyway, i still drink milk and i look damn cute in my jockeys.

and on top of it all...i smell good.

though i do have bed hair and seem to be dripping blood eveywhere...

don't slip...you might break a hip.

turkey day approaches.

..."and oh i'm red all over." (proudest moment)

more later...when the distant smoking memories of a fire that once burned so hot it exploded (hey jenna!) are cooler to the touch.

...previously... ~ ...next...