One of my goals is to offend a large portion of the population, and the other is to show another portion of the population how to love. I'm just not sure which is which.

I've told it once, I've told it twice. If my subconscious doesn't shut up, I'm going to stab it with a fork. Too bad my subconscious isn't something I can do that with. And, if it was, I wouldn't be allowed to! Ah, society. The great one, who keeps us from stabbing each other with forks, AKA – the womb.

By the time I'm 35, I'd rather not participate in a civil war. Or by the time I'm 45. Or 55. Or 65. Or 75. Let's take the prospect of that away, and replace it with something else. Common sense, maybe?

It was a beautiful dagger – set against my heart.
It would prick me some – very slightly drip blood.
For the jewels we kept it – quite foolishly some say.

But I disagree.

I'm not a very good publicist.

Teenagers talking
I'm walking
Away.

"Excuse me, ma'am, would you like to go on a date with me? Your face is wonderfully odd."

I want to go back to that cherry tree I found by the sea.

My soul uses nuclear pulse propulsion. Cool, eh?

I have a nuke.
In my soul.
Great propulsion to move forward.
Be sure to build the correct type vehicle.
Car: Bad idea.
Spaceship: Bad idea.
Spaceship with nuclear pulse propulsion: Good idea.

I have an odd story I'm not allowed to get into.

Everything happens so slow! I n c h i n g   a l o n g. Like a little worm. Pushed out of the dirt by the rain. Please don't step on me! Please don't let me dry out after the rain!

Advice: Don't breathe in the toxic fumes.
They make whatever you are doing far too much fun, and then you get distracted by shiny things.

The water became wine?
Was it the rice and the spices?
My stomach liked them quite well!
I'll be telling you some juicy little bits –
It isn't the rice making it rosy, but the company!

For some reason, I don't think girls would like to hear me say of them, "You face looks a little... odd." (At least their face doesn't look forgettable!)

You know that feeling of wanting to jump and then fly into the sky, and the reach other worlds? Yea, I have it.

I'm the coolest, because when someone asks me the time, I just to look at the watch on my arm. (Unless, of course, they ask after the EMP blast reaches us. On the flip side, they can't check their phone time either!)

Scars are typically reminder of stupidity; heed their warnings.

If you've been eaten by feral chickens before, please respond to this blog post. If not, well, I don't really care you you. I mean, in this context. I'll even accept something along the lines of you being eaten by feral chickens in a parallel timeline, but you weren't eaten by feral chickens in this timeline.

People use coffee shops for many reasons.
Some to read magazines, others to plot and plan to take over the word.
I don't judge either.

We teach our children not to talk to strangers.
They end up alone, strangers all around.
Maybe we could teach them to talk to the right strangers?

I'm trying to learn from my mistakes here.
I have short term memory loss in regards to mistakes.
This doesn't bode well with the idea of keeping friends.

Sitting – just as deadly as smoking. I'm dying as I write this.

This blog is here for a reason.
I've forgotten what that reason is.

Maybe we'll all die in an avalanche of love.

Dead kitten on the road
I watched for a moment
Too see its chest move
Stillness.

Blogging is dumb.

I've always thought that blogging is dumb. (I still think that.)


This place, however, will be useful for me. I'll make sure that this is one of the shortest blogs I ever post. All of the ones after this will be little sayings. Some funny, some sad, some mad. Some will even be insane. Don't worry, I'm not depressed. Just joyfully melancholic.