I guess this could also be called My Personal Life On Display: Part IV but I wasn't sure so I just went with what I felt. No theme songs lately, just silence.
I fell asleep this morning and as I drifted off my last glance at the time showed 2:09 am. When I awoke it was 2:43 am. 34 minutes of dreaming that brought the nightmare count up to 67 but I awoke gasping. Which was a good thing because finally all of the images have turned themselves into a story. The veil between worlds has been rent. Those things that were once a fancy in the minds of men now roam our earth. If the lady does not remember how to care, we are all lost. It's all in my head and now the question is, how am I gonna get it out?
The Coital Gods have cursed me. I swear that has got to be the truth. This is becoming a comedy of tragic proportions. I submit. I won't even try to fight it. It'll happen when it's supposed to... I hope. Sheesh.
I had been thinking about/talking about/considering/threatening to move. Now that it is becoming a reality I am terrified. I am a New Yorker, born and bred. What the hell am I gonna do elsewhere? I know that I'll still be me and I know that what will be will be but still... it's odd to think of living anywhere else. Some good may come of it and I've got quite a bit of time to prepare but I'm scared in that not so afraid way. I guess you could call it excited as well. *sigh*
Aside from a few table-border and font color issues, Mala Mag is all but ready on the build front. Now it's just a matter of content. I'll definitely be porting the blog over, I have a few defunct interviews that I may have to rewrite and reconnect. I don't know I'll figure it out but pretty much the ETA is 3 weeks. Gotta have it together before I bounce.
To those that either want something from me or I owe: You can't get blood from a stone. Stop squeezing 'cause all you're gonna do is hurt your hands. Trust me. I know.
I am facinated by the phrase "I just don't want to." I thought everything in life had a reason. If I don't have a reason it's either because I don't give a shit, I'm too numb or I don't want to insult someone. I always thought those that acted without reason were just cowards too afraid to be painfully honest. Seems I was wrong. Facinating.
*I'm counting the hours. You're so funny. I don't even think you're trying to be. Trust me, aggravated and angry are animals of two different species. "No I didn't just do that" ahahahahaha - yeah baby you did. Hilarious. Soon eh? giggle*
My 6'5" rasta cousin came by the house to install the air conditioner last night. All we succeeded in doing was blowing the fuses and tripping the circuits. Well, actually, we also taught me a lesson called SAVE YOUR FUCKIN WORK EVERY 5 MINUTES. I lost everything I was working on. Auto-recover my pert ass. I have to start over. Fuck all.
Found out my other fine ass young rasta cousin got trapped off by a broad with an agenda. Foul. Straight foul. I wish him the best. That broad better not choke in the paint or it could be a problem...
Funny how there is mad shit going on and I'm so calm. This submission thing may just be the ticket. But still: Saturn, you suck.
Fuckin pretty noose. It's beginning to get on my damn nerves. How fucking long is it gonna take me to be rid of this thing? It's so thin I barely feel it, but dammit it's STILL THERE. It just ain't right. How did it get this strong. Somebody get it off. Please?
Waxing is the most painful sacrafice a woman can make for the sake of fashion. Whoever came up with it should roast for at least one eternity. However, I've got to admit it helps shiny legs look damned good in shorts.
I need a haircut in the worst way. It's starting to do that whole 'curly' thing. I've had exactly 4 arguments about letting the curls grow all the way in. Listen people, I could give a fuck how much you may like it, I'm the one that has to wear it. The hair goes. That's final. What is it with folks and my head these days? Sheesh.
Generally I'm honest, if not so polite yet somehow I've found myself in the position of finding a non-offensive way to tell someone(s) "oh lord I am SO not fucking interested... and still wouldn't be even if I was on the market so, uh, beat it. Thanks." and still be cool with them. Any advice would be appreciated.
Alright, enough of this, I gotta get back to work.
- n I'm out, getting back to business *hurry up you!*
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