Hell hath no eye lids

Good Morning blog followers and readers,
Let me begin by saying THANK YOU to all of you who click the link each day and find your way into my head. Knowing that people read my incessant ramblings is like a jumper cable charge to my heart.
Just so you all know, I am quite possibly the worst editor in the world - when I quickly scan through my blogs before I hit the post button and free my writing to the open web, I never see the typos, grammatical mishaps, or worst of all the mis-spellings - I apologize for my messiness, I know it makes some of you (Tiffany) cringe. If only there was a voice recorder blog(sigh) - oh my, I would never shut up....
Last night, immediately before my grateful eyelids finally fell shut, I was re-reading a play by Jean-Paul Sartre titled NO EXIT. This text is one among a zillion that will be covered on my Humanities exam on Monday night. (See, I did study!)
Basically it's a play about three newly deceased people who are introduced to hell, which funny enough, is simply a room that they cannot leave. No fire pits, no torture chambers, no bubbling cauldrons and no Satan - just themselves and no eye lids...
I LOVE this play, think it is brilliant beyond words.
Imagine if that is the reality??? Oh my - bring on the hot licking flames I say.
These three mis-matched (or so they think) people are left to face their inner demons by way of having no other alternative - each character is meant to expose the flaws in the other - by way of an odd number, creating a triangle of inescapable truth. No mirrors, no sleep, no eye lids.
Yowza - hell hath no fury.
That got me thinking, and subsequently dreaming about what I have hidden deep down in my soul that would haunt me if I were to meet that exact same fate?
It's a pretty tough exercise to put yourself through - I assure you.
For me personally, I would definitely have to reckon with my vanity - the no mirror thing would be really annoying. I am, plainly put - a little vain. I will say that I am trying to overcome this ugly trait - I have really really tried hard in recent years to accept myself as I am and to not concentrate on the outer shell as the thing that defines me. I am this crazy head and heart, not my hair or my stretchmarks.
In this society however... that is easier said than done.
Beauty = power in America, but it's a power that also means being objectified, minimized and reduced to your sexual parts and in the long run, what that incites in others.
Oh, lets not forget judgment and hate. It was one of my favorite musicians Alana Davis that said "Everyone hates the prettiest girl in the room"
Exactly, so well said, so true Alana...
I think I am better suited for funniest or better yet, kindest or more appropriately, craziest.
Oh, perfect time for my Nana's voice - "Deb-o-rah Ann, pretty is as pretty does"
Yes vanity - gotta keep fighting that fight - still have work to do.
Seventeen extra pounds does not negate my value....
repeat.
Also, I can be quite intolerant. I know right, me? Yes me... Dr. Martin Luther King is my intolerance savior, he has helped me tremendously in this inner battle.
What I love most about Dr.King is that even in the face of such discrimination and brutality, he continued to hold love his fellow man, even the worst of the oppressors.
When he was faced with stupidity, he conjured up forgiveness for the morons shortcomings. He was able (miraculously) to remember human imperfection and ignorance and chose to teach it out of his enemies by example instead of fight back.
Gotta hug the people you want to strangle...
In my past, I have been the type to smile at someone who has fucked me over while grinding my teeth all to hell inside my fake smiling mouth, and simultaneously swallow and gag all the things I really want to say.
Since my Dr. King love thy oppressor applications, I have foamed at the mouth with ugliness a lot less.
But, I still have a lot of work to do - have to try to (genuinely) be more tolerant of idiots and those who hurt... Hold up - gotta clarify - not tolerant of their behavior in a submissive way - just not venomous and hell damning in my reaction.
Although if hell is a place with no eye lids, I got a few nominees...Stop it Deb - see - ugh work to do.
But, hey at least I am honest.
And honesty, what about that concept hmmmm?
I am not sure that I believe we have to be honest about everything, at least in terms of divulging everything to everyone. Some secrets are meant to be kept and some things are just meant to be secrets, period.
I think as long as you can be brutally honest with yourself - this action is crucial.
In my opinion, when you lie to yourself and then the lie you have told yourself becomes an untruth you spread around to the masses - well then you got problems and the biggest problem is that you cannot be honest with yourself. When you have to lie to your own reflection - then you are in real trouble.
I have secrets and secret plans and secret schemes, and sure some of them would get me in trouble with others - good thing I know enough to keep them to myself, cause me, well I am okay with my darkness and see it very clearly, embrace it daily.
The force is strong with me and I know it, therefore I keep it in honest check inside myself.
Because here it is folks, get ready.... It's human nature to have a dark side...
The real grace and wisdom that comes with aging (in my opinion) is that you finally accept it and learn to do the dance - question becomes, who leads this jaunt around the floor? The good or the bad?
For me, it's most definitely good the majority of the time - as for the trouble making Miss bad ass, well I let her have her way sometimes too - otherwise she would swell up inside me out of pure boredom and the good-doing levee would bust wide open, unleash all my inner wicked and ultimately destroy the world.
I am doing you all a favor by letting her out to play a little - trust me.
I just had the worst thought and literally shuddered.
Maybe my hell room would consist of nothing, just me, no one to talk to, no music and nothing to write with - no purple box, no pencil, no sheet of paper even... OMG
I feel a little nauseous.
I think I need some air and stat - with that, I think I will go find my little slice of heaven outside and talk to Mother red breast, see how the eggs are coming along...
And practice blinking (a lot) while I still have eye lids.
Peace out.

Almost over (tear)

Phew - sigh of relief as I pull off my bra, put up my feet and log into my computer for my own purposes.
Wait I didn't mean that the way it came out - education is my purpose - I meant to say, logged in for the fuck of it.
Sorry for the sailor mouth, no actually I am not, it's who I am and you are reading of your own volition - no apologies.
So....I took the religion exam in 4 minutes and 35 seconds to be exact - truth is, I am pretty sure I aced it, yesssss.
Out of all the questions, one gave me pause and I answered on intuition which is the way of Mahayana Zen, so even if I get it wrong, in my own way I got it right through application, so I say point on my scoreboard either way.
As I was exiting the building after my exam, I had that same overwhelming desire to ugly cry, it happens at the end of every semester. Sure part of it is relief, but really the main ingredient to the post-semester bawl is just how freaking happy I am to be me.
I love this life so much more now that I am a student, and although my goal is to write my book, and then live the easily life as a published author (yeah right) I honestly, really truly want to stay in school forever and ever and ever.
Not only do I love education, I love the people.
I will admit with no hesitation, that I am in love with four out of my five professors from this semester and even the fifth, although not quite at love, fancy in some unexplainable way.
My Humanities professor Jessica is quite possibly as luminous as the July sun, she glows with enthusiasm, intelligence, warmth and humor - plus she is pint sized which makes her punch all the less expected and I thoroughly enjoy surprises. My religions professor Kate is young, adorable and brilliant beyond comprehension (Oxford and Sanskrit, oh my) and when you throw in as distract-able as a young child, the total package is simply breathtaking.
Then the men, oh the men - There is Chris my GEO professor whose smile and good humor makes eight am feel more like happy hour at a local bar where everyone knows your name - His pacing up and down the aisle is like a dance you wanna learn the steps to, follow his lead by way of cultural awareness. I adore this guys teaching style which is serious business at a comedy club. Loved him, just loved him - great smile and wit.
Then we have English, oh English how you make my heart beat right out my chest. My English professor, the good Doctor, is for me, alike the mad hatter at the tea party, naturally I would be a combo of Alice and the Cheshire cat in relation - enough said.
I just loved the assorted flavors of this semester - now maybe I am just hungry and so I pull up to the feast more ravenous than others, but yeah no - they were unique characters I will never forget.
And then we have the students....Oh the students - how I love the mix of old timers like me and all the newborns so cute, so silly and (really?) yeah, so firm.
I remember, however vaguely, when my skin was that tight and responsibility was a distant star in a far away galaxy...

Some of my favs, have been from English no doubt. There are my table mates Nikki and Q who packed in like sardines on top of me as I edged off the wall trying to fight claustrophobia - no really I liked it. Nikki is smart, funny and insightful as shit. And Q, he is just Q and I adore him - a good kid on his way to being a really good man.
Oh and who can forget that hottie, whose name I can never remember but his face lingers on the eyes long after they have dreamily blinked - he is natural male beauty at it's finest and will smolder in the hearts of many women to come. Effortlessly edible, yes sir.

My religions class had the most diverse group of people I have ever been in a room with, my favorite naturally hung out in my corner, a group of whack jobs if I have ever been a part of one - we laughed at private jokes the whole way through - but Mary, sweet Mary and her pretty cane, she warmed nicely in my heart cockles - sweetest girl I ever did meet.

Psychology was dry like stale wonder bread, less that one girl who always asked the stupidest questions... She was like peanut butter to an otherwise inedible sanwich. We had no room for personality in this class - it was all geared to endorphin killing...

Humanities, well now - we have some personality going there - Iman who will argue me down on any point while simultaneously looking at me curiously, going huh - and thinking what is it about her that makes me want to argue? And then we have Kristen who is just a tall glass of water with the giggles - and Patrick, whose tan and muscles and familiar face always make me wish I was twenty and not good friends to his sister - then my diagonal neighbor, Brittany.... Brittany is anarchist from the word go and will be the head of some fine feminine revolution one day - her read hair, Elvis Costello glasses and nose ring make me want to be the feminine lesbian counterpart to her angst and she's not even gay...

And Geo, oh Geo - the two girls from food lion who see me frazzled in the grocery store trying not to succumb to my childrens incessant begging for candy - they know the truth about me - and oh, the pretty Fluvanna girls who went to school with my kids and still laughed at my jokes - oh and the guy up front who takes himself far, far too seriously and Mary again - sweet, genuine Mary.

Oh how I will miss them all... I bet you now understand why I wanna ugly cry at the beauty of my life - so many people - so little time.
And on that note - I have a few straggling assignments that I need to sew up and one more exam I should study for - note, I said should.

I hope you all have a glorious day and if you read this and are one of the people I mentioned - yes you really are that great - and yeah thanks so much for our time together...

till next time, peace.

Dao is my exam state

Hi,
I am in the library and I shouldn't be doing this...I just finished my Psych exam, took me an hour, we had three. Not quite sure how I feel, but I will say it was not as bad as I expected. I woke up late this morning to discover that there was NO COFFEE. This was harder for me to take than 100 multiple choice questions - I have a head ache and wish that there was a way to just get the caffeine straight into my blood stream, like now...
A central line would definitely do the trick. sigh.
I have an exam in forty five minutes - World Religions, this one is going to kick my ass, no doubt about it. You and me both are wondering why I am not with my face in a book instead of here blog ranting???
Answer - I am just plain over it.
I guess my exam scores will really be an indicator of what I have learned and retained this semester. Not cramming it all in last minute, is actually kinda liberating...
Just wish the liberation would make me stop shaking like a brittle autumn leaf on a breeze.
Beginning to think this semester may finish off Monday night with a grand Mal-seizure...
sigh - shake uncontrollably on that exhale, deep inhale- shake more and slice up tongue...
Okay well enough of this nonsense, I could be outside chain smoking my way to a heart attack - hey, at least that would give me a legit excuse to miss the exam - a little more time to thing about the Dao de jing and Wuwei...
Exactly...
Right on - Exam four here I come.

What am I supposed to be doing? Oh wait... hold, on - it's right on the missing tip of my tongue

Still avoiding the books, I think I have made my choice - still have two eyes too, go figure...
I'll tell you what I do need, OCD meds - Yeah I OCD blog - sure, but you wanna know what I really do, all the time - obsessively - compulsively - ridiculously????
I shred my poor little tongue all to hell on my Dracula tooth....
What the hell is that right?
It's this fine little $5,000 dollar piece of dentist wizardry that is in my pie hole.
It happened like this....
A few years back I was innocently eating a caramel/chocolate filled center NIP.
Do you know what they are? They are utter perfection in candy making, my Grampie always had a box right next to his recliner...I was raised on the NIPS.
At any rate, I was walking through CVS on my way to work and there I passed it, the little red price cut sign - NIPS 88 cents - naturally because I am a chocolate whore - I bought them and proceeded to eat them all day long at work-
Until.... I felt something hard. Hmmmmm?
Oh wait that was a filling, shit, seriously??
But you know what?
No pain!
And then I proceeded to go off sugar for the Las Vegas hottie training and of course then it began to hurt every time I ate anything sweet, sour, hot or cold.
Man...
I had not gone to the dentist in too many years to admit - severe dental anxiety - hate em, not going, fuck it, not doing it - what's a little hole in a tooth anyways?
I waited and popped lots of IBU.
Then one day in class, my buddy Tim next to me says - "Deb you okay, cause dudette I can feel the heat coming off your body and you look a little pasty?"
Yeah no, not okay.
Massive infection in the tooth/face.
Cry all the way to the dentists office, tell him I hate him and if he hurts me, he's going down -
Injection of antibiotics - script for giant pills, will fix the infection see you in two weeks and we will fill it up...
Or so my dentist thought (liar)....48 hours later I showed up in the office, crying begging for meds or a gun - no really.
Tooth extraction necessary - over to the oral surgeon. (have to call Dan for a ride insult to injury - pride and tooth both getting yanked)

And then there I was, little ole me with a gaping ass hole in my face the size of the Grand Canyon - sue me I have a big mouth and horse teeth...
I live this way for six months until I have literally doubled the hole by digging at it constantly with my little pitch fork tongue....I have tunneled through my gum line and into China (good thing I know how to say cake huh?)
And then one day, a sweet couple in my store are talking to me, he stops suddenly and says "What exactly are you doing in that mouth with that tongue of yours?"
Hand to mouth, recoil in horror - how did he know?
DENTIST.
SO - because we had made fast friends and he said I was way too cute to be digging my way to Asia by way of my face - he coaxed me out from behind the counter and examined my mouth right there in the store, Yup open wide missy.
I told him, "I like you, I hate my dentist - he's mean and maniacal"
He hears my sob story, inquires about finances - I am getting divorced - destitute - Mother to four - Catholic and a full time college student -
His wife nudges his arm, gives him the "look" and it's a done deal- he is gonna fix me up and be easy on the hole in my mouth and, (phew) the hole in my bank account.
Long story short -$5000.88 later - dental piece in my gum, it's sorta like a bridge only different - no more gaping hole, but lucky me.... A pretty little Dracula tooth.
It's not a fang by any means, it just has wings like a plastic Dracula teeth, a nice distinct ridge just perfect for self inflicted tongue shredding.
UGH.
And so, that's what I do constantly - I rub OCD style, like washing my hands repeatedly - just not that refined.
I know for sure that I have an oral fixation (easy X-raters) - confirmation by way of my psych class this semester - my Mother #1 didn't nurse me and then #2 robbed me, and I mean robbed me of my binky when I was clearly not ready to let it go. I remember the sound of my own hysterics to this day - BINKYYYYYYYYYYY
It's all my Mother's fault.
I think maybe for Mother's day I'll UPS her a few of my severed taste buds, grrrr...
So sigh - here I sit, orally fixating away instead of studying - simultaneously realizing - either way I go, I am doomed to OCD shred.
If I study, I shred. If I am guilty and procrastinating, I shred.
I cannot stop - shred with a hole, shred with a dracula tooth...
Shred shred shred.
I wonder if there is a name for this disorder - Oh wait yeah there is - it's DEB DOES LIFE!
(maybe I'll go read a little now....) but just maybe....

A rainy ramble on...

Good rainy morning,
I just sat out on my front porch beneath the canopy of hanging and potted plants and watched Momma red breast watch me. She bounced around the lawn, dodging massive rain drops, coming closer to me than she ever has. I suspect those blue eggs are getting close to cracking open, we are engaged in a battle for territory now. My Nana's plant, or hers? I tried to tell her that I am no threat to her babies - I tried to talk in my most non-threatening soothing mother voice - futile attempt to comfort - She wants no part of me anywhere on my own porch near her children. I totally get it.
Yesterday Mimzy reported a close encounter, a near-bird attack, she said mother red breast flew at in her face and sqwaucked (how do you spell that?) loudly at her - I think Mimz was a little scared and also a little confused. She assured me that she won't harm the eggs, won't touch them, wants to see the babies safe and sound - she was a little bummed that Mother red breast sees her as a threat. Naturally I did what I do best and acted out a scenario for Mimz - I explained that to her, we are big scary threatening giants to that teeny little birdie and she is just doing the same thing that I would do if some Sasquatch approached my babies - war cry, you better watch yourself... She laughed at my goofiness (as did Kevin, although he would deny it) and seemed a little less emotionally scarred by the whole incident. Dr. Mimzy Doolittle was able to put the attack in context.
I hope Mother bird doesn't begin literally dive bombing in and beaking my family members - could make going in and out of the house very trying, I don't want to have to fight her for entry into my home.
Why oh why did she ever choose the porch of this whacked out family - did she not observe the constant activity, the nerf darts, hear the thud of the basketball???
Ugh Mother bird, what were you thinking?
On Sunday Matt and Bryce (neighborhood pal) were engaged in a nerf gun battle of epic proportion, they had their arsenal of weapons strapped to thighs, in waist bands, tucked in socks and were carrying what appeared to be nerf bazookas... I was in my bedroom, had just gotten out of the shower and saw a huge dart whiz by my window. Forgetting about Bryce, I ran to the door in my towel and began to scream at Matthew to not shoot darts in the front lawn anywhere near the damn nest - Poor Bryce saw me in a towel with wet Medusa hair - Poor kid is probably damaged for life. That is just a sight that needs never to be seen by such a young unspoiled child...I was just so afraid for the nest, and equally afraid that one of the kids would lose and eye to a beak strike.
In essence, I now have seven kids - my four and her three - great just great, just what I need.
Maybe this is practice for Grandmother-hood? I just gagged on my coffee...
Sigh - Heave
I should be studying - I have two really tough exams tomorrow - a cumulative psych exam and world religions.
Eastern religions are thoroughly kicking my ass because the terminology is words that are foreign to me - it was hard enough to keep the Indian words straight - but now we have moved into Dao - and really, I'll just be honest, I can't remember, let alone pronounce Chinese words. The best I can do is the one worders on the back of fortune cookie fortunes - Chinese word for cake - dan gao. Now that I know by heart...It's called priorities people.
Lost in China, I get cake - sounds perfectly reasonable to me.
Ugh.
can you tell I am avoiding the books?
Here's my deal - I just cannot do it all and I am plain whipped.
My oldest son came home at the very beginning of this semester - he is almost twenty-one. After four years with his girlfriend, they finally broke up. I won't divulge any more of his business because he is an adult and privacy matters - I will just say that it has been a difficult four months for him, me - us. The strain of family issues coupled with five pretty demanding classes has left me at this point, running on fumes from the reserve tank.
I want to do well, but I just don't have the energy to fight for it. Four kids, 25 hours a week in retail and five college classes could seriously just about kill an old girl.
What really screwed me up - was my Nana informing me that Papa graduated with a 4.0 GPA. This was an off the cuff Nana reveal. I was home for his funeral services (just about end of semester last year) - she asked how school was going, I told her about my GPA and she unknowingly put me in the pressure cooker of my own stupid head - Papa, he was just so smart - like brilliant smart - he knew a lot about most everything...Top of his class 4.0 GPA, ugh.
I want to make him proud of his Pumpkin, and so now I strive for all A's and pretty much gut myself in the process.
I am smart sure, but smart in some ways, completely moronic in others. Some things actually take a lot of effort and I am tapped in the effort department.
So what to do, what to do?
Part of me just wants to accept that perfection just isn't my gig - hello beautiful mess...Part of me wants to give in and just be average and have that be okay - cause after all average under my circumstances, that is a feat.
But....I am a scrapper by nature and getting gritty is what I do.
Today - I wait to see what side of me will prevail.
I will say, I ache. My body is stiff and sore, my head feels foggy and my eyes have sunk into my skull and swim in pools of liquefied brain matter - I feel like the contents of my cranium have been blenerized...I am beat.
If I do nothing at all today, I may come away tomorrow with grades just below the 90 mark, this equals B's...
Per my calculations, I am teetering on the A/B line in Geography, Psych and maybe religion - possibly English too which is totally my fault - I didn't cite enough sources on my Sula paper - totally couldn't find anything that pertained grrr.
B's are okay right? Or, do I duke it out and go for the glory?
B's are okay right???
I am trying to look at the totality of my accomplishments - Oh my God I am such a freak - I feel motivation creeping up as I type these words of resignation... But really, B's are okay right???
Maybe I should force myself not study and get the B's and just get imperfection over with so that I can stop fighting with myself - part of me really thinks that is the ticket.
Remember Deb, you are not out to prove anything - you are out to live.
I think I will go consult Mother red breast - maybe she'll poke my eye out and give me a reason not to read....
later taters - peace

out of my head, hello - thanks lady love...

Hey all ya'll I'm backkkkk.
My Bff just called cracking up after reading my last insane post - she told me I should write some more, and like now. Don't ever let her fool you, she likes me crazy.
So for Mary, I write...
A couple years back, my life had turned to complete shit. My marriage had tanked, I was broke and alone and most of all - hopeless. Those of you who follow, know already that self-esteem has been a real issue for me in the past.
My BFF Mary had simply had enough of being the sole guest to my pity parties and did what every good friend will do for another. She forced my hand - called me out and put our love on the line...
She gave me the education talk, told me college would change my out-look, that I needed to fight the fear, slay the damn demon and then... then she made me promise that I would finally go.
When your soul mate says "promise me" - you do what you have to do - you promise.
So when ECP got on the bus for Kindergarten, I drove my sorry, scared ass to PVCC and began my formal higher education.
Mary does this for a living - she is a financial aid wiz in the great state of Maine, she is on a daily basis, a champion of the college experience.
Who knew, her greatest professional achievement would come in the form of her bestie.
Now, two years in to my degree, I consider myself her education bandwagon groupie.
In my head I fantasize that she and I will be a team - someone, somewhere will pay us to go and put on the Deb and Mary show for high school students, we will get all the kids who think they don't have any good reason to go, inspired and enrolled.
I would serve as the walking, talking example of why you should not go the "other" road. I'd do my crazy charisma thing, win all the kids over with my charm, freak them out with all my horror stories, then finally inspire them with all my subsequent collegiate successes. When I was done, I would hand the baton to my beauty queen and she would rock their world with resources and financial aid factoids and we would change the world, one high school at a time.
Sexually transmitted diseases would go down, teen pregnancy would cease to be a problem and no young women would ever go forth in life feeling incapable of anything.
Yup that's how it would go...
Ahh if only someone would pay us and it would warm the hell up in Maine...
See here's the deal.
College has saved my life.
College has saved my life in so many ways that it would take ten blogs for me to even hit the tip of my iceberg.
Last year I would have told you it boosted my confidence and gave me hope -
This year I say, and I mean this - it is impossible (in my opinion) for anyone to realize the scope of their own personal power without higher education.
Big statement.
How so? Well I'll tell you...
If you do not fully understand the history of this world, the rise and fall of civilizations, the conception of different religions, great philosophers, partake in classic literature, view magnificent pieces of art - if you do not understand your world and how you came to be in it, you cannot fully comprehend the magnificence of your own being.
Before I went to college I thought I knew what I needed to know - I quote myself
"there is a tremendous difference in being a survivor and being a thriver"
No truer words out of my mouth will ever be spoken.
I am so thankful that I now know all the things I didn't really know then.
I am a writer - I am a philosopher.
Before I knew James Joyce, Emily Dickinson, Socrates and Rene Descartes, I assumed I was just a little tapped...
Now I know, now I truly understand how important I am.
Mary always nagged "your answer is college" and I always hid trembling behind my excuses.
So good to be out of my head and into a room of equals - hello.
Thanks Guru - I plan to make you very proud.

post exam stream of unconciousness

There is nothing left to do but get between the cool sheets, prop up on my fluffy pillows and eat cheetos til my fingers turn orange.
I could save my unwashed fingers for a in an emergency meal plan.
Yeah that's what I'll do, I won't wash my hands.
Oh Dave you creep in unnoticed don't you, you hide in my nooks and crannies.
There was a multiple choice on a final today - pick the best suited explanation of a brain drain,
ha I got one for ya...
And so it goes, the eye make up is dragging down beneath my sweaty palms, war paint of turquoise black and cheetos orange (insert tribal scream here)
And you think I would care but I don't, not one little itty bit, not at all.
If they ask me whats for dinner, I have a plan of attack - I will look blankly back at them, just stare without one word - decipher this.
They may be afraid of me, wonder why I've gone tribal, back up from me so as not to be human sacrificed - smart kids
Cold Diet Pepsi is the God I worship right now, cold bubbles that tickle my throat and fuzz up my nose and tell me yes, yes you are still alive.
I went the post exam freak out route and approached the edge of heart attack - I ate a corned beef sandwich with swiss and spicy mustard on rye - it slowed my pulse and tamed the shakes.
I bought a pack of Rolo's to melt up warm goo on my sore tongue, but I lost them and now I feel incomplete.
My eyes burn in their sockets and my lids feel like they weigh more than my ass.
This room is shady and I like it, the whir of the ceiling fan is inviting -
I wonder if I were to be finger printed right this very moment, would the maze of cheesy lines spell out this same story?
I wouldn't read it if it did, I'd lick the smudges clean, because without my rolo's I have a craving I can't satisfy and that makes me just eat everything out of spite.
There is a THUD THUD THUD in my chest and I like the rhythm, it's in time with the throbbing of my tired legs - good to keep in time.
In syncopation. THUD THUD THUD.
The bottom is scraping the back of my head, it's heavy and falling off.
The pillow is soft and the sheets are so cool - I smell cheetos.
Hey I need a sip my throat is wicked dry.