Do not build the ‘extra-dollar’ vanity
from Ikea. It seems none of us has
begun to digest the meal of all our
lives (John Ashbery). Yes, I am tired
of patriarchy (tired of the patriarchy).
Barf. That’s puke. Today, touchy.
Very. These days it’s probably
healthy to be able to joke about it.
We ARE sort of pretty when we
cross over that line of no return.
Nothing’s floating around in my
head but I keep reading sentences
that make me misty. That last
meeting was very vampire in
the end. There are way too
many meetings. Did the
main character become
a poem? Not to think
about it further. Does
that make sense? At a
burger joint having a
strawberry shake I feel
really cool. Am I about
to die? It’s a totally
different kind of place.
In a strange part of town.
I feel distant. Or something
severe. Perhaps I should
explore a lot more.
