Okay,
It goes like this you see.

10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a *****, create waves of flesh on that ugly *** face of hers.


Anyway.
After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.

You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.

"i" is Atlas holding up the World.  

  A permission granted by the writer
of letters.  

And 'i' never shrugs as it does not
have the writer's license to do so.

For if it did the mnemonic rule of
'i before E, except after C' could
not exist.

Weird!  <--very weird!

:: 09-26-2018 ::

Can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg,

which came first,
the Chicken or the Egg,
which came first,
the bliss or this pain,

whatever never mind,
who cares anyways,
because the real question is,
who cares anyways,

who cares anyways?

These days most are too inattentive to pay attention,
too unobservant to deserve my service so they’re only purpose is to be subservient,
too distracted by everything expect the instance that they’re in,
don’t even have the strength to concentrate for the length of an entire sentence,

can’t focus on this moment,
when in fact that’s all we ever have,
so really if we don’t hold the moment we hold nothing,
guess is why I only wrote this poem to remind us of that,

as I lay here in this bed,
with so many thought crowding my head,
that I have no room inside my head for Z’s,
can’t sleep I’m wide awake again,

can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg…

∆ LaLux ∆

isn't weird to say to your love that you need him
what's weird is that
there's no love
there's no you
but you still feel need

"He was not unwhole, merely bent and jaded. And though he held nothing but love for those around him, the darker details bled through. Hindered from an honest delivery of his gratefulness and his grievance, he withdrew into himself.
The darker facets fulfilled his quiet desires of complexity but cost him his emotional presence; cold but comfortable.
He lost his happiness, his memories,
His charm, and above all else,
He lost his time.
His eyes grew sad,
His fingers wrinkled.
Though his eyes remained sharp,
His heart had been lost to atrophy.
Another person to love more than anyone could love him, is what he wanted, but never got.
To fall in love again was the escape,
An open and powerful rebellion against the vast sorrow that imprisoned him.
And so he tried his hand, sad eyes sought for someone to pour into.
He found none, but some found him.
Twisted and attractive, they wove together long conversations and hints of double meanings. They even almost learned how to care, but didn't.
Even among those he wished only to love, and only to gift,
He could never feel free.
For they hated him,
And so did he."