feb12
3.04
ante
meridiem

We all slept together. Not that it was weird or anything, but mostly for warmth. There was a lack of insulation and that wrecked hell on the furnace. Half the time it wouldn’t even light, or stay lit, long enough to produce anything more than black smoke. Caustic stuff that flooded the house and left stains on the basement ceiling. So we did what any rational group of communal people would do, we bundled up as in an **** fashion and stayed warm. Stayed alive through a winter harsher than any in recent memory.
There were moments when we were at each others’ throats. Usually happened when someone had done too many hits and were just schizin. Trippin’ a  lil too hard for their – or any one else’s – good. They were just living this experience on a separate plane. We were living it in reality, or whatever word can be put to a subjective group conscious.

apr14
2.49
post
meridiem

Im here again, stuck again. Third time’s the charm, eh? That’s a lie if ever there were one. First time was alright, I could cope well enough; second time, I was numb in entirety; third time is as if I am Dante descending further. Descending further. Each ring of Hell a reality, thorn-bushes screaming and bleeding as their twigs are snapped for fodder. Yeah, that bad - and it's my third time.

jun6
3.00
post
meridiem

**** hot, the kind that turns asphalt to wax. Kinda wanna pick up a chunk and chew it, maybe Rant a little. I swear I could drop a match and the entire road system would blaze. It'd melt cars, and I am sure the asphalt would glow for a while. That'd be a sight I bet, something like a snake writhing and turning in attempts to strangle and consume itself. These thoughts, it's the heat.

jan14
4.22
ante
meridiem

I don't know what it is about graveyards and tripping, but there's a weird connection goin on there. I mean, ya know, like all that energy is built up in those hallowed grounds. Hollow ground. And you're all up in the Universe's business tryin' to proposition it with *** for answers to life. Only, I realized, ya know, that like, well, you can't **** the Universe. Be ****'d if It won't ******* without a second thought.


oct13
10.38
ante
meridiem

These are quieter days. The kinda days when I wake up exhausted and want nothing more than a coffee and cigarette. Knowing **** well that my sore throat will hate me after. "Why don't you take a flying **** at a rolling doughnut?" and I continue. Sitting in a cold garage, steam collecting on my eyelids as I try to warm up. The smoke doesn't help. Not a bit. These are quieter days. These are the days of less wandering and more thought. Thought processes. And action, I can not forget about the action. Though, there are times when I have a thought and tell myself to act on it that I find Vonnegut coming outta my mouth. "Why don't you take a flying **** at the mooooooooooooon?" Directed at me, at my own thoughts.

jan7
4.38
ante
meridiem

She was fine for a while. It wasn't but a few hours before her mind turned. Just a simple conversation, and then the next thing I knew she was trying to climb the wall. Mumbles about a tree-house and saving the Amazon. Comments on the proletariat uprising. Ranting to the CIA, they were monitoring everything and her escape from Communism was of particular interest to them. "It's alright." Her eyes met mine. "It's alright, they know I am for the good of the common-wealth. For the good of the People." What light hit her eyes sank into the abyss that were her pupils. Green halos, the color more pronounced as her mind turned furthur.

june 16th
8.40
post
meridiem

We built the fire up to the point where a person might have felt they were at a pow-wow. Could barely stand within five feet of it unless someone had a point of barbecuing their flesh. It was a tiny fire to begin with, and as we went off adventuring we would haul back giant logs. All of it driftwood, that meant it was quite a bit lighter. Meant that the wood was quite a bit dryer and would burn down fast, and that was the whole point.