Carving out a corner to post random crap.
ROMANCE
leaves one in a trance
live in your stretchy pants
love's first blush
lasts for 30 days
— Darla T. Varney
Darla found her king of cups, got a refill, and recycled what was left. She turned grounds and spent leaves into folky nick-nacks. Darla's heart belongs to Thurisaz (and Ort!), but no doctor's got the cure for this girl's particular curse.*
*The shadow Darla can't forget walked away with an irreplaceable piece of her.
Maybe this peace isn't completely soulless
To pick up a pencil and scratch on a pad
is au courant
I favor keys clacking and mispelled words
makin' music without even tryin'
I like your voice better in the Meditative Hour
each breath
A Flower
No tension
No tightrope
No walker
Over turbulent water
This journey has found its feet
longing for the old country
where its inhabitants would eat your tender belly
and spit out what would be left of any backbone
you are neither just off the boat
nor are you 15 quid short of the price needed for membership
your contacts are clouded by a pretty shade of pussy willow
while you struggle to juggle disparate worlds in the search for the perfect
ISO
From your boozy lips to my woozy ear: "12 or no, I can't stay away from bars."
Stagger
Stagger
Sleepy is how I greet the day.
No more blindfolds and September will forever be your month.
You should have brought the apostrophe along as your date and left the bangs at home.
…and stop cutting your hair, dammit!
The decision was made the day Gayle and I were in the loo desirous to wash our hands. The sinks were backed up with shit.
WOMEN OF INDUSTRY: TAKE BACK THE PLUMBING! DON'T GIVE MEN CONTROL OVER YOUR U-BENDS!
You are surrounded by sick people and their disease has rubbed off on you. What do you do?
Don't believe The Believers when they try to convince you there are no lessons to be learned from feeling your way through the gloom.
Don't know what it means to you and me
but let's put our bodies through the wringer
For Free
That way the pain will be our remedy
for plans gone wrong thanks to
The Patriarchy
Calling on a prepaid just outside of Pocatello, Darla talks at Ort:
Hey, Easter Island! You're the only person I can say this to, but have you ever noticed people spend more time vetting their hairdresser than they do a psychoanalyst? Don't snort at me 'cause I'm a great judge of character, like with experts peddling medicine that's basically sugar pills. Pastilles! What have I been up to? No way, mister. This is no time to deflect. We're talking legacy. Who's going to pick up where you left off? Buford? But all the great artists were disturbed. Have you seen what I've been doing with spaghettini? There you go again saying the one thing I don't like hearing you say. My eye! I don't even know what "Oh well, I'm supposed to be here doing this" even means. Ort, sometimes ya just gotta take heaven by the hand.
Good to talk to … no I'm not stalking you.
My tummy has been awash in warm, slightly pinchy rumblings for the past few weeks. Not acid reflux or indigestion, but rather an arousing twinge in the middle o' the breadbasket. It feels right. I know to trust that particular gut reaction. Bad vibes come at me all cold; sharp jabs in the lower back with a note of bile on the palatine uvula. I can trust my intuition more at <fill in the blank> years of age than <now subtract 20> because I've made mistakes, the same ones a few times even, and finally understand that a change of game plan is what's going to get me where I need to go. Where that is, of course, I do not know.
So how to describe my balanced-yet-foolhardy energy? One that is trusting, loving, non-judgmental of myself and others, and confident that if I go with the flow (which is so very hard for me) I've done the homework that'll save me from disappointment. We are all on a Grand Adventure, Cubby! Be prepared and always carry a First Aid Kit.
Yea, for the unreasonable season be upon us, and emotions are squishy and raw. Deal with the feels if you must. But for the sake of propriety (sobriety, piety) please don't go losing your everloving mind during this Neptunian grope fest.
course-correct this mess
picard & riker jumped ship
courage & trust, son
People are here because they don't have to be here very often. But isn't showing up Step #1 in: How To Build An Effective Team? Why are you here? Is it because the two of us have very different ideas on how to define "Fun!?" Would we even know what to say to each other if we were to meet outside of these waterstained walls?
Those closest to your heart should possess a healthy dose of forgetfulness.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 