frying my mind ain't so bad (as far as i kin feel it)--

it's losing my teeth that truly frightens me.

it's listening to my father blindly spouting truisms.
so i may likely smoke prior to seeing him. this will also help me stomach any food stuffs he may suggest we devour.

i mind the people around me when they are not listening. when they are merely awaiting their turn to speak, counting their thoughts and the seconds and gripping tightly to their words with their tongues behind tight lips.

people and their influences. their influences bother me as well. why couldn't they float past the gate of possibilities. why must they insist on following the same tunnel without exploring the windows on their way. without investigating the source of light shining high or to their far left sides upon the aging roads they tread.

i'm unwinding blissfully, arrogantly, ignorantly. i hardly know what goes on around my own perimeter, where do i get the gall, the nerve, the inclination that i know better.

i only want to step upon a stage and bang my drum and sing with a proud tightness around my eyes and a wide mouth excreting the biggest words i can think of with abandon.

i want to live with abandon.

nude on a bike--

fudge, i've been neglecting you. i've been playing the negative creep or whatever. cheer up, ol' chap.

yes i'm stuck at home, and this revelation occurs to me that i ought to hop on line. na dher e jjshgoes!

weed... weed..... bowie...low .... pssss.

writing makes the grisly pictures in my mind settle down.

they don't ever go away, but i don't want do away with them.

english language, surreal paintings, crazy wordings, clever intellectuals/

and i sit here sneezing mucus so it hangs out of my nostril and the cold creeps up the booger and i could feel my nose getting chilly, whilst the other nostril begins to leak slowly.

david bowie in my conciousness, i'vee gott itt tooo goood.