As usual, my email address is in my profile, please feel free to say hello.
It's an REM day, for those seeking Bridget's barometer.
Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up
I'm in a holding pattern. One of those wonderful and bittersweet life times that Jacob holds his breath right through. This time of the year is incredibly difficult for me as it is, but I'm not going to talk about anything bad today. I am going back to see Claus. He was the best of the bunch and didn't try to pulverize me with emotional bombshells every day and so I happily pop the pills and I'll see him later on today. He told me to bring all the pills and my writing and an open mind. And he said Jacob was not invited.
Follow me, don't follow me
I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush
Casual poetry has become a new lust. Reading, not writing it. Are you mad?
And weirdly I am still waking up with What's the Frequency, Kenneth? in my head, every single day. It's been months now. Maybe if I listen to In Time for a million revolutions it just might leave me alone.
Or maybe it won't.
