Thursday, June 18, 2009

a horse is a horse

and no one can talk to a horse, of course, that is, of course, unless the horse is the famous mr. ed




this is a day where random has to work. my brain needs to throw up--a thick, viscous, pungent bile of thoughts, visions and words. a sick confetti. colors and odd shapes flying in the air. eyes closed and mouth flapping. i've always hated the correlation between 'mouth' and 'flapping.' like, lips don't actually flap, and if they do then there's a problem.
i'm sick and tired of always being the obsequious one. the one who gives only to receive on such a limited basis. like the warranty runs out and i'm left with a broken toy. it sits there not doing what it's supposed to because it's broken, but you still love it because it's a toy that you coveted and worked for and admired from afar, but because it's broken you start to resent it for not doing what it's supposed to and it isn't the toy's fault that it's broken, and you may not have been the one to break it, but since the warranty has run out and there's nothing you can do about the broken toy, you're forced to know that they toy is broken and just deal with it by not dealing with it and that's the worst part of all.
and then you're like, "well why did the toy even have to be mine to begin with?" remember that you'll never know the taste of something bad until you've tasted something good.
i wouldn't say i'm depressed today, but i'm dreadfully tired and the mere weight of the weather has an awful subduing effect on the positivity of both my mood and outlook. i would yearn to crawl back in bed to seek solace and comfort, but the lack of external activity would cause me to ferment all these flying ghosts of unrest into something even more potent.
and all this 80's music going on reminds me how fickle love is--everybody has a different opinion of it; some believe in it, some don't; some want it, some hate themselves for it (joan jett); some rock out to it, some melodiously serenade it. and will it, or has it, ever been the same thing? can and does love have a uniformity?
i better stop before this turns into something sappy. i need an advil.

xo
b.a.

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