and more about who i am not.


Finally time to close my eyesFrozen stiff in the dead of summer, sheep fur woven around this feeble throat not fit for swallowing a swig of the brandy which drove me here and many other places. Much better placesFinally time to close my eyes
Those nights in the wood -
lumber jackets for us hardly men, ear length hats and leather mitts. An icy glass jingling between our dog like paws. Pine needles and myrrh sap made a home in our air suckling hearts as we held no fear for things unseen, nor time for things already known.
Free like the horses of Sable Island - &n


wake up, it is morningi stay up late at night way into the hours of the early morning after polishing off a bottle of rum. it felt so goodwake up, it is morning
going down my throat clearing the esophagus and burning my empty stomach. it felt so good.
the girls have all gone home now. home to their boyfriends with tight t-shirts and sports car posters on their bedroom walls. the boys have all gone home to pass out and to not think about their girlfriends. the convenience stores and filling stations have all turned their lights out, and the game has been over
and of


long walks homelong walks home beneath the black sky, the large glowing stars and the sorrowful half moon, as drunk as any god, as high as any water tower,long walks home
as low as any grave. it's on these long walks home where you find yourself and the world in which you live. an old man, hardly clothed, sleeping on a bench
who doesn't exist
in the daylight. a taxi cab with one headlight
which only runs when the policemen sleep. happy women ducking punches
from their unhappy husbands in the middle of their living rooms.
there is no stopping at red lights or slowing down


one way or anotheryou would only let a girl grab at your cock if you considered her an intellectual well except on your birthday, anything went. it was like a horny celebration you would climb through their windows and shed your mud covered boots; rip off their clothes, strangle them with your shoelaces, and give them new garbage bag dresses you'd go back home every night and have a liquor revolution i'd dig my fingernails into my hips while i slouched up against the wall, watching you.one way or another
just enough
I just overdosed on hair dye,
hair as red as Gwen Steffani's lipstick.
Or something like that.
--
I won't rip out these pages because I swore I'd never lie to you.
Why can't you go on erratic self-deletion sprees like the rest of us?
--
I LIVE IN CANADA
--
My clubs: ~Gossipgirlclub
FAQ #164:How can I get more pageviews?
--
""For me, much of the world makes no sense, but my feelings about what I am doing ring loud and clear to an inner ear and a place where there is no self, only calm." - Wendy O Williams.
save it if you must,
--
cry me a ice cream
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