Felt-tip fealty
Stolen obscenities
Mistake a meme for a movement
Relace the seam with dissolvable stitches
Rebuild atop a crumbling foundation
Division as salvation
Rebrand sickness as entertainment
Zero sum inversion
Decaying recursion
Garbage in, garbage out
Beat that drum
Run back to what you knew
For four long years you’ve wanted to
I’ll choke down all that might have been
And spit out what you’re accustomed to
Bubble merge outreach would do well to include visual pallet cleansers and any other available resource to reset lizard logic centers as they take the wheel (those reaching out shall already need to be immunized against lizard driving, two lizards driving down the same road will always crash).
When your tunnel light turned out to be the after image been burnt into your retina, and it dawns on you that you won’t be able to trust your eyes while they’re adjusting to this sudden darkness.
It’s really f$&king hard to keep pushing this water vat up the goddamn hill for Jack and Jill while feeling over saturated from the effort and while recognizing the strong likelihood that the top of the hill remains deserted on account of that litte fucker always falling down.
I was nesting in the home I loved, comforted by the certainty that construction on the home out my window would eventually cease.
Now I simply live in temporary housing that is made unlivable between the hours of 8am and 5pm.
When you don’t want to go anywhere without your dog because you don’t want to be alone.
When you realize you talk to spiders
Progress is subjective. As is conservation.
When you realize nobody with an honest interest in understanding you shall ever be around you in your life again long enough to be capable of doing so.
Fuck your excavator beeps. They aren’t warning anyone. What they are is two feet from my fence, thirty five feet from my studio, fifty feet from my couch, loud as fuck, with me all goddamn day, and unfucking capturable by Apple’s Airpods Pro Max noise cancellation
Reintroduce the word at to illuminate the hidden data within the event line or stop placing the home team’s name after vs. It fucking bugs me that you have to be familiar with how we used to speak in order to understand that the event’s location is coded into the listing.
Hah! Found the playbook.
- Say something minorly incorrect but worth getting straight to avoid problems down the line.
- As the person to whom you are speaking tries to stop you from disappearing down a rabbit hole, pretend they aren’t even speaking and quickly rattle off two or three more increasingly inaccurate factums that build upon the initial inaccuracy.
- Act accosted as the person to whom you’ve been speaking becomes increasingly louder and more animated now that you’ve lit the gas.
- Begin free form commentary of the utterly unacceptable (and irrational) behavior currently being exhibited by the person to whom you had been speaking.
I wonder how many days one can go without any feelings of accomplishment?
If I recorded my voice, would I hear what I said?
I suppose the role I’ve defined for myself has been wearing around her albatross collection in order to preserve her worldview (they abscond into my general visage with a spot of sin-eatting).
A brain cannot grow without changing its pattern.
I wonder what the odds were last March (there are only so many times you can hear this without repeating it), when I said out loud for the very first time in memory, “I’ll just kill myself,” (shocking even myself into pondering whether I really were suicidal (I wasn’t and turns out I never have been)) that the very next thing said to me would be, “Good, nobody wants you here.”
I’m like a horse, pulling gets us nowhere.
If this 💩 ain’t obvious by now, I suppose it never shall be.
48-48 ain’t tied… it’s an admission you don’t know where to stick the remaining 4%
I like that Stevie Nicks made me cry
The nerve on me to respond that the cat has been getting up and going downstairs regardless of whether I touch the top of her head and say good night to her as I get into bed. I totally deserve this for not saying what she wanted to hear. No, really. I do.
Under 30 days left and I just this morning heard y’all on two different programs asking the right question… the one I asked four years ago (and settled on a solution for three years ago). I guess we’ve slid from six months behind to four years behind.
That is a yes on the No Drama Lama
There’s a party all the time for them what choose