Semi-Daily Scribbles
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Category: Medicine
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Mama had the megrims and Lettie was left to herself again. She sat on her bed, tracing the outlines of the bright yellow smiley face flowers stamped on her bedspread before turning her attention to the fresh outbreak of poison oak on the backs of her knees. Hot, itchy-scratchy pain and with no more ointment…
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For those following along, My Five Star Heart goes to the work that is fiercely authentic. I like it when My Own Private Icky Button is pushed by bloodlust and love's grotesqueries. Poetry that comes in great gushes and not dribbles. Make your piece so ugly it's pretty by sheer effort. Make me queasy and…
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do that artificial thing you doruffle blue feathers and count white liesand then call it the story that wrote itselfyellow heads bend backwards to look you in the eyesthis is a dizzy way to live and leaves us sicksome desperate kind of love
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Brandi never wanted to travel that meandering middleroad, where life shrinks and grows and folds in on itself to reveal the early-warning signs of wrinkles and wisdom. Only fresh starts and big payoffs would do. Brandi hated the thought that her life could be reduced to a monotonous crawl of sameness from day to day…
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beauty is awakeeyes shutwounds reopendarkness all aroundsharp and sweet beauty thinksdeath is heresmoke and fearshe breathes deepmetallic mist "He smiles and reaches for my hand. All the fight has gone out of me. Sleep becomes a possibility."
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Break the illusion + Contradict the ignorance =Change the perception
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A distressed blessing luck is. Some say you make your own, while others believe luck owns your backside for life. Speaking of which, life is said to have a purpose. Luck says: "Hang on there, partner. Everything depends on which side of the shadow you're from." There's a lesson embedded somewhere on this page about…
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speak if you must but keep any messages tucked up under your skull. today is not a day to let one's tongue off the leash. restless, reluctant, and generally redundant is the emotional forecast for the week. what's been coming out of your mouth is a poor imitation of sincerity, and all your sensibilities are…
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Got another reminder today to get off the fence. That makes it Sign #9 for the week. You see, I'm stuck between decisions, i.e.: new road/old road, challenge/piece of cake, money/memories. I'm also wedged in pretty tight between this big blue sphere and The Void. So, yeah. Hop on off that parapet, say The Forces…
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an absence of badpeace is but a quiet mindexistence exhales
Semi-Daily Scribbles 