But First, a Poem:
White incite to teetertotter
no claiming certainty of own Joy
Press the future tow to flow hair
winding the hoped-for military homunculate
not to stare but to curiosity-tinged
The lamp of court-directed exulting
in sand under sun gives to itching
children a split between rage and fear,
downward directed. Notice yourself?
You're going to have to make a life
to a cold embrace.
Thank you, thank you.
Quite soft and fuzzy, don't you think.
So, reading my last blog sounds like everything is cool.
But my contradictions around drugs and sex still exist.
JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT.
I really have to admit that the possibilities of life are tremendous.
I think that if I just let it all be what it is it will be okay.
And that 's the end of this monoblogue.