Devastated, beaten down by life, crying on the inside beings like myself. A girl that I can play "it's you and me against the world" with. A girl with a deeply embedded maternal instinct...and Daisy, I can't wait to meet Daisy.
aim- dyinginabubble
My blogs, and other links:
Testimonials
A postcard from Los Angeles
Short wave radio
My life with prostitutes
I am a fucking idiot
Oki Dog
Being
Hide your children
Angst coloring book
Anton and the fish people
How to kill yourself
Hollywood Underground
Teen angst poetry
How to attract vultures
"Tomorrow will be like today, and the day after tomorrow will be like the day before yesterday," said Apollonius. "I see your remaining days each as quiet, tedious collections of hours. You will not travel anywhere. You will think no new thoughts. You will experience no new passions. Older you will become but not wiser. Stiffer but not more dignified. Childless you are, and childless you shall remain. Of that suppleness you once commanded in your youth, of that strange simplicity which once attracted a few men to you, neither endures, nor shall you recapture any of them any more. People will talk to you and visit with you out of sentiment or pity, not because you have anything to offer them. Have you ever seen an old cornstalk turning brown, dying, but refusing to fall over, upon which stray birds alight now and then, hardly remarking what it is they perch on? That is you. I cannot fathom your place in life's economy. A living thing should either create or destroy according to its capacity and caprice, but you, you do neither. You only live on dreaming of the nice things you would like to have happen to you but which never happen; and you wonder vaguely why the young lives about you which you occasionally chide for a fancied impropriety never listen to you and seem to flee at your approach. When you die you will be buried and forgotton, and that is all. The morticians will enclose you in a worm-proof casket, thus sealing even unto eternity the clay of your uselessness. And for all the good or evil, creation or destruction, that your living might have accomplished, you might just as well have never lived at all. I cannot see the purpose in such a life. I can see in it only vulgar, shocking waste."
Apollonius of Tyana reads your future
From The Circus of Dr. Lao, Charles G. Finney, 1935
If I were into arson I wouldn't set brush fires, I'd burn bridges.
In my dreams I construct rollercoasters in the backyard of my youth.