Whenever I try to write anything coherent anymore, it dissolves into an avant-garde paste, slapdash and slapstick, with little or no real artistic value. The aesthetics are not in place (though if I were even a slight visual artist, I could show you what goes on in here a little better), and the assembly is flawed and insincere. I think about writing then I think about the drug that inspired the last two years of my life.

that drug would be

the

artistic bullshit in a box
i've been
shovEling
d
o
w
n
M Y
T
H
r
O
a
T

Are you listening, sweetie? Call me champ again. I just like it, that's all.

Miss Scarlett has burrowed her way into Mr. Green's undergarments. This animalistic ritual provides the necessary warmth and comfort to sustain a hazy
fuzzy
skin tight
fingers spindly touch grade eye sight
we should get married (let me see your hand
- i want to know it's bigger than mine )
you're so...

your skin

your sweat,
[we're sweating,
y ou still want to
r O L L around

i ]
wanted
to DRINK your


Georgie,
wake up

UNINSPIRING DRIVEL
I WANT TO RIP YOU APART
TEAR AT YOUR SKIN AND CLAW
at
the softest part of your skin
creme de la creme

snow white -
doc loves her still;
he hasn't been able to properly mine his own gold for months now, maybe even years. it's all HIS, all of it, he just hasn't had the drive to tap into it yet. this week has been the worst, with all the snow and seemingly no responsibility. boy is he going to be frustrated when he realizes that snow white was never the protagonist of this story to begin with


it's the past you know. and all the kinetic energy surrounding the future consumes my thought p ATHErn

maybe i should give up writing and start drawing
and maybe i should give up drawing and start writing
and maybe i should give up writing and start kissing
and maybe i should give up kissing and be tuberculosis

the point is clear:
the COAST is CLEAR! why haven't i been picking any flowers for anyone else?

he truly doesn't know does he?
[well, he isn't as bright as he leads on. sometimes i think he's a fourteen year old girl]
i wish you would tell him he's actually beautiful for once, instead of just standing there
[what kind of guardian angel would i be if he didn't have to work for any of it? do you know how good of a life he hopes and wishes for every day? do you honestly want to know what he ASKS me for? it's all HISTORY, man! how can i give him back what he never lost in the first place?]
he needs motivation
he needs to fucking find it himself

I can't think
of anything witty to end with.
My father was a stick of celery and my mother was a big block of styrofoam. My appearance comes from the planets.


my advice to you:
don't become so stuck up that you forget how fragile ' people are
don't lose your heart

you've already changed again. it's time to think about the past in an entirely different light again

}eternal conflict
eternal

DRAGON?