If you are a bear...

...then I am a deer.

My alarm is set for six a.m.

A myriad of things;
baking bread and whispers.
a thousand cliches counted as my own
setting apart and dropping out
out of the race
for time
distance,
place.
first third fourth fifth.
I would never know how to spell fifth if it wasn't for spell check.
Is spell check created for me or I for it?
medicinal mysteries wrapped up in commit
to yearly check-ups and daily routines
brush brush brush

please.

Bianchi

Before I knew her I heard about her. She was born in Eastern lands but French blood ran in her veins. She was new movement in an old frame; people turned there heads when she went by. To the store, to the school, she turned over distance to the minutes, they slowly ate her up. 

When she was born They called her by a name, emblazed their words on her side. "Words of Love.." She thought. This she showed to the world, belly up and soft side out. "She's really going places now," They said, "There, that is the look of the New Age, and we want everyone to know - we want them to know we made her who she is." So They sent her to America, because that is the place where all examples for the new age are sent. The ideas, though, trickle in too fast and pool at the door, they create a mess in the winter time, look sloppy in the spring - the americans in new york complain; "We are up to our heads in talent, Our toes in innovation!"

So this is where ideas go to get stuck.

And there she stayed, I hear, for years. The rains came, and went, and came again. The words of love She kept carefully displayed on her side began to peel off, letter by letter. With rain comes rust. A thing like her, made to move, was forced to sit. I am told that when someone is made to do a certain thing in life, they must do it or they risk a pile-up in the soul. Let the poet write! This I am told. 

I found her in a corner of America; hiding her belly, hard side out. She's beautiful, I thought. "She's not worth it," They whispered, "Those words of love aren't ours any longer. You can't un-rain the thunderstorms that have let loose over her head. There is damage there, and oh, the baggage!" 

She can't be more than 20 pounds soaking wet, I thought. I guess thats baggage I can deal with. I approached.
"I'm an old idea," She warned me, "I'm just steel in an aluminum world."

"But you were made to move," I said, my eyes looking down. "All you need is new shoes."

She was beautiful; "My name," She said, "is Lorena,"

Back to a place!

Visual reminder that there are many things to go back for. It feels wierd, but right.

How to be a Man according to Brian Field, part one.

"If someone hands you a pistol, you've gotta check the action. If you don't know what the action of a pistol is, you shouldn't be holding a gun in the first place."

This Last Week Or So...

Things to do:
Buy Books
Sell Books
Pay Bills
Clean Room
Take Care of Miscellaneous Shit
Learn How to be a Woman
Read Books of Substantial Literary Quality
Family Responsibilities
Show Sheep
Work for $$

Things I have actually done:

Looked at Bikes
Bought Bike
Looked up song tabs
Played song tabs
Made Mix CDs
Generally laughed
Drove around
Ate
Ate
Ate
Spent time with miscellaneous friends
Felt sorry for myself

[[Heard you tried to, to keep your hat up on the shelf]]

Hiatus abolished, disguised as self-centered political musings

Okay, here we go.

...

Neither here nor there
we talked for 1 hour forty seven minutes to be exact.
About what makes someone a pragmatic, about how not to be idealistic until your idiotic, on whether or not we were nineteen and disillusioned.

Pragmatism; \ˈprag-mə-ˌti-zəm\ a practical approach to problems and affairs. (Nathan tried to strike a balance between his principles and pragmatism) 
the function of thought is to guide action, and truth is to be tested preeminently by the practical consequence of belief. 
What does that mean, exactly? If I am honest, I allow my thoughts to stray always from my impending actions. 


But then the other voice in my head, the one that isn't Nathan, I suppose, says that all my thoughts really do just react or re-instate some sort of action. This proves the American-forged philosophy correct. I'm currently looking for a loophole in opposition, I promise. 
In the meantime this means I'm a pragmatic? When I was younger and forced by public education to evaluate my personality via online testing all the time I came to the conclusion that I was a realist idealist.  What does this mean? A 5'5 blonde girl who liked reading Dickinson and going to professional bull riding events. 
The truth is, I don't know what that means. I had dreams but I was tethered to a state of conservative reality.

I hear people say that the world needs free health care. That sounds really perfect. Then everyone could always be healthy and things would be really easy. I guess I just wish that doctors weren't people. Then every time a diseased person walks into a health care clinic they won't have to worry about malpractice and negligence and ending up on a wait list for fifteen more years. They won't have to wordlessly receive simple antibiotics when what they need is a double bypass surgery.


Ah but that happens now, doesn't it? I'm a bird with an identity crisis. 


I guess we will need Will Smith in a pair of Chucks to solve our problems. Sooner than later.