I woke up early and beat the sun. Waking up prior to waking up reminds me I have competitive spirit. I walk around the day all morning. My motions calculated and finite; end.
I forced my ass to the seat, my hands to the page and? Well? Here we are.
I was thrown out by two women recently (not at the same time).
The first had its unique dramatic flair take on man left on doorstep shivering in rain.
Female triumphant inside. She sated.
The second had a trombophonic and visceral punch to the shoulder on the doorstep of a woman who knew how to throw a punch.
Needless to say they both hurt.
I am the breaker. The breaker upper. The “middler” but with the Jewish twinge the Super Meddler.
Both, sudden, kind of cut. No fixing that I guess.
To say life is a constant rebound means that someone else is taking the shots. I mean, you don’t rebound most of your own shots, duh. That metaphor is clearly lost on the sports noobs.
Good music and better memories help you wonder why first times feel always like first times. Are there 80 year olds having their first time second time first times?? I always knew this all too well and my superpower is to make a beautiful soft trampoline beneath me.
But what about a bounce to the side? Or even up? But a side bonk? A jiggle? Not a jolt.
These have been hard pressed to find. I did deal with dog loss. That was a first first. Nothing to soften that blow (to the head, temple to be exact). He was the first and only bloodhound in my life and I do not know if it was the “Gang” or the “3-2-1 Contact” kids but I was taking the cancellation badly. A first first crying for a dead soul. Well first I can remember.
I remember tragedies that are not my own. In my dreams, I bear weights that are not my own, yet there they are manifested in my dreams for me to figure out. I have to stop watching movies before bed. What do I expect when the last image I experience is an Aryan rape and birth documentary from 1944 propaganda footage? THE FUCKING TV IS 4 FEET FROM MY HEAD.
I crawled in a box once. It was in Harajuku but their were no girls. The resident was out so I ducked in. Each box was connected to the box in front and behind it. My view is the bottom of one soul’s feet and the top noggin of another. I lay down. I breathed. The man before me breathed. I breathed his breath. The man behind me mine.
We warmed. Thousands of the boxes all be one box. Man, this would be great training for politicians.
To rule you must know thy ruled, non? When senators were threatened with living in barracks, how did the majority of people not demand that? If Jimmy Carter can be considered the head Marine, some fat cat can live efficiently.
I think the bing bong theory may apply here. From the bottom, you can only bing up. There is no downward bong so why not always have yourself set up for binggity bong? When I saw that movie “Frozen” I thought it was a documentary about ice cubes. I mean why 16 cubes. Why not 4 large ones or 27 ice pellets? And why don’t more people do what I do which is make chicken soup ice cubes and have one for dinner when I am dieting? Better than the parasitical worm diet that I saw for sale everywhere in Indonesia. I love that it came with a free foot massage. Probably to get the blood flowing for food for the maggot inside you. That you just paid for. I blame LA.
And what isn’t LA to blame for? Didn’t it sway some Yogananda Guru Guy in the 1900s to Tinseltown? Didn’t LA suffer more sink holes than any other city in America? Shit..Darryl Gates. Please. LA has let you down before. I looking at you Pete Wilson.
I wonder if that is why so many people live in Ohio. Less Blame. More eagle eye condēscēnsiōn. That might be my favorite thing about being up in an airplane. It’s not that you are higher than everyone, it is that you chose to be elevated. Kind of like the reverse physical feeling of skydiving. No matter what your brain is communicating, your body is clearly elated.
We all get that from different things
I get that from you.