ninjatuner

So.
I drew a hot bath, opened the window to let in the warm air, put on a beautiful album that the Girl brought over, and as soon as I slip into the water somebody starts running a leaf blower outside my window. Grrrrr.
They then followed it up by revving their farting, sputtering Harley. Psshh.

To Colleen, Alena, and Uncle Mer; 3 who left us prematurely in 03/03:

May your souls drift, like delicate fingers of smoke, to the restful place of peace you had always wished for and worked for, in the way you lived your lives.

oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh, my aching head.

what do i expect after a Dead Moon night?

cotton candy and flufft clouds?

So, I'm going to be 'away' for a little bit. As of this morning, I have a death, a cold, and a new girl to contend with; I am very sad, sick and happy all at the same time. It is all a bit much. I will talk to you all soon.
Rock on.

I'm now up to 3 different work meetings today, which is supposed to be my peaceful Sunday. It looks like a very hectic day for le Roi du Lapins!

Le temps du Lapins!!!

solamente quando todo es listo, esta la vida sabroso

no thyme for the present

I just had one of the best nights (dates) of my life. And nobody, not the baby Jesus nor G.W. Bush, could've stooped it; like a freight train it did roll.

It's no coincidence, nor is it any secret, that pain moves downward. It only makes sense.
Swirling through your thoughts at night as you can't sleep, marking your forehead, creasing your brow, and blackening your eyes.
Then it attacks your mouth, drooping the corners and marring your speech.
Placing an ache in your collarbone, dipping to wring your stomach like a charcoal sponge.
Jumping to...
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Bandages off, finally healing. In a couple of days I won't have people asking me what happened and I can resume my normal skateboard crusing. If the rain let's up, that is.

trying not to pick at scabs. picking at scabs. bleeding. thinking of tomorrow. bleeding. dabbing, dabbing. sighing.