tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-132685242024-03-07T21:55:22.488-08:00Mirror me this. Mirror me that.A need for approval. A need for anonymity.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-18028147661295370522011-03-10T00:08:00.000-08:002011-03-10T00:34:40.850-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKzw-VTHzR8/TXiM7N22OXI/AAAAAAAAA40/xRnfUHa-z4E/s1600/7182.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKzw-VTHzR8/TXiM7N22OXI/AAAAAAAAA40/xRnfUHa-z4E/s320/7182.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582366687085607282" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-24382791998549314462011-01-22T05:53:00.000-08:002011-01-22T05:57:30.215-08:00Its been a while, won't you come home tonight?<br /><br />I ask my mind again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-71485651405518026052010-12-02T10:38:00.001-08:002011-12-17T07:29:23.726-08:00Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-86842885158190697872010-11-26T20:05:00.000-08:002013-05-12T04:25:33.099-07:00Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-84674750308596427652010-11-25T06:48:00.000-08:002010-11-25T06:49:34.026-08:00I can see his face now. Shaved. Where did the hair i despise go?<br /><br />His face appears to want touch. I take my hand and move it above his lips. where the hair grows. <br />They move to his lips then. Its strange to touch lips that haven't been touched. He moves.<br />I place my mouth over his, as he tries to teach his tongue how to play the game. Old dog. New tricks.<br />His mouth tastes sweet. Perhaps lunch. <br />I move my tongue over parts of his mouth, he is feeling for the first time. <br />The first time. The stars and the excitement.<br />He opens his eyes. The stars and the excitement. He moves and is unable to let go.<br />I love easy erections.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-22746853090376373012010-11-23T04:02:00.001-08:002010-11-23T04:03:13.914-08:00EroticaHe saw. <br />He conquered. <br />He came.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-70094679776043810272010-10-19T09:21:00.001-07:002010-10-19T09:21:59.742-07:00sometimes<br />I feel like a priest<br />in a fish & chip queue<br />quietly thinking as<br />the vinegar runs through<br />how nice it would be<br />to buy supper for two<br /><br />ROGER McGOUGHUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-51888564033665603942010-10-15T09:09:00.001-07:002010-10-15T09:09:39.221-07:00I have no imagination. Except my own life.<br />However hard I try.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-55516137915305805212010-10-14T19:04:00.001-07:002010-10-14T19:28:36.764-07:00Finally, I managed to convince you that my mind wasn't the finest place, and that perhaps you should shift on to paper. It would be far more permanent, in any case. <br /><br />And yet, last night, like a cat that always finds her way back home, you crept back in. And then enticed me with words from the past, when you knew I was asleep and least careful. <br />You do know the slaughter of sleeping persons is never sanctioned.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-55884053664093331592010-10-11T10:08:00.000-07:002010-10-11T10:29:25.373-07:00Its been the strangest period of my life. I don't believe I belong anymore. <br />There have been wonderful songs in black and white that seem kind even when they talk of heartbreak. <br />There have been songs that spread themselves through genres. <br />Yet in the end it seems to come back to silence. Those uncomfortable silences. <br />And then my own voice seems like it has no belonging. <br /><br />Except laughter. Its the only part that still belongs. Perhaps because its the only part that can't be let off. <br /><br />The Mad Girls Love-Song plays. <br />How do I manage to make so many of them up inside my head?<br /><br />Side step note- Take this post a few years back, you should get some splendid grapes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-4022386958681263982010-10-05T21:09:00.001-07:002010-10-05T21:09:56.137-07:00This too shall pass.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-71141461844720334962010-10-05T10:08:00.000-07:002010-10-05T10:09:51.520-07:00I hate love. <br />People in love are gross and icky like lizards in the rain.<br />And, so happy too.<br />It must be banned. Really it must.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-45339625703141839622010-10-04T09:46:00.000-07:002010-10-04T09:48:51.860-07:00Playground love is a lovely song. <br />It sweeps into my head and digs up stories of girls who kill themselves for reasons no one can understand. <br /><br />If only your tongue had been kinder.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-30927449427952709492010-10-03T06:51:00.000-07:002010-10-03T06:59:16.104-07:00I feel very much like a weasel.<br /><br /><br />Weasel<br />Pronunciation: (wē'zul)<br />—n., pl. -sels, (esp. collectively) -sel,<br />—v. <br />—n. <br />1. any small carnivore of the genus Mustela, of the family Mustelidae, having a long, slender body and feeding chiefly on small rodents. <br />2. a cunning, sneaky person.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-86005174247678291362010-10-01T10:17:00.000-07:002010-10-01T10:18:32.303-07:00I press my mind to come up with words that will make a story, interesting. <br />All my mind offers these days is porn. And soft at that. <br />So soft, it almost has feelings. <br /><br />There are no more tales of wonder or amusement or hands with leather gloves or girls with chests, not so flat. <br />plain text. no curses even.<br /><br />Maybe we could be descriptive and speak of the rain and the wetness, and the joke that could possibly go with that. <br />Or of the pain that comes with the dentist chair. <br />Of childhood and the diaries that were kept. <br />Love. <br />Kisses like eating chicken fingers.<br />Of little people waiting. <br /><br />Bullet pointed thoughts that can't be construed as sentences. <br /><br /><br />And, yet all my mind offers is porn.<br />So soft, its almost not. <br /><br />The Wisdom of Whores.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-56362570840764197472010-09-30T01:41:00.001-07:002010-09-30T01:41:26.448-07:00kiss me tender <br />kiss me soft<br />kiss me till my lips will drop<br /><br />and while the lips went off to play, the rest of me chose to die that day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-68560874720398934122010-09-26T06:05:00.001-07:002010-09-26T06:05:19.303-07:00Sleeping never was the problem. <div>Waking up is. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-29062668129833626282010-09-24T20:34:00.000-07:002010-09-24T20:39:12.959-07:00Alone is terrible. It appears to be the season of the alone. <div>One would imagine that with so many alones, togetherness would be so much simpler. </div><div>But, life. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then there's all the sadness and misery and pain that comes out so graphically in blogs and other whine stops. I would have imagined that this deep call would attract another of a similar variety and then the blogs and other whine stops would become happy and glorious and full of joy. </div><div>But, life. And the internet. </div><div>They both never co-operate. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-18430959574382011772010-09-19T06:41:00.001-07:002010-09-19T06:45:44.013-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span">I watched arrested development all day. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span">I am charmed and officially addicted. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Its a wonderful painkiller.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Did I mention, my life is a group of messy incoherent sentences with bad line spacing. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">And, my ankle is twisted. Like my life.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">What fun analogies. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Can I call it an analogy?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Ooh so many questions.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Can you even imagine the number of voices I must have playing out inside my head?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-28894502129867505322010-09-06T21:00:00.000-07:002010-09-06T21:06:16.648-07:00This post has no full stopsThese are straight sentences without South Indian accents or full stops<div>I'm hungry (straight, with no metaphor)</div><div>You're kind and charming although you mock</div><div>I would very much like to go back to sleep</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-71955035571798705872010-09-04T23:03:00.001-07:002010-09-04T23:03:35.886-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; ">I search my mind<div>for words to fit through my mouth.</div><div>But my mouth is small, </div><div>and the words escape through my nose,</div><div>preventing me from breathing. </div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-16914753006110883172010-09-02T10:11:00.000-07:002010-09-02T10:13:07.787-07:00I would like to get out of my head. <div>You may keep your promise, and give me yours to live in for a while. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-37747534998535800732010-08-05T09:27:00.000-07:002010-08-05T09:31:03.132-07:00I think through letters I want to write,<div>and stories I want to play out. </div><div><br /></div><div>We're all caught in unexplained webs of loneliness and choice.</div><div>We'd make wonderful travelling companions if only the universe would set itself right. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-58526039764256554292010-07-15T09:47:00.000-07:002010-07-15T09:54:18.530-07:00<div>May I ask you to leave my head, </div><div>and attempt to discover my mouth instead.</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268524.post-44668281610212703732010-07-13T19:01:00.001-07:002010-07-13T19:12:56.735-07:00<div>Your silences drown out all the voices in my head.</div><div>Except one.</div><div>Yours. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0