Walking down the short hallway to the restroom, Laura was definitely feeling the buzz. She even had that chemical burning lovely shades in her digestive tract, or at least, that's how it always felt when she got high. That **** burned right through her inhibitions and her exhaustion; it made her watchful and ******, any touch felt like lightning. A GOOD TIME kind of time comes to mind, where merely a pair of lips and teeth scraping against her skin could make her come......a drug that was so disgustingly ****** to her it would probably have ruined her for a sober life. Forever ******* and trying to find the heights she had once achieved even with the most incompetent lovers. It was truly a drug for a woman. Always the ones expected to make someone feel better than they are, constantly begged to lend validation to the worn and make them feel new again with your love and admiration. It absolutely disgusted her sometimes the things she had done, but you could never deny her the title of success in that arena. She had traversed a pile of trash and made them feel golden and important, even allowing a man to **** her soul until it couldn't love anymore. Lack of responding was forever to be her kryptonite....but here she lies, Laura, the fuckingest of the *******, and queen of the ******* she ****** back to life in her drugged state- the only time she had ever been able to stomach being a "modern" woman. Covertly sneaking the addicts and the losers love underneath the table....trying to make them rise up and redefine it all. But her army would never come, and the war would never begin- thinking they would be the only ones who would fight for her, the ones she had bore into full men, but oh was she wrong. And oh was she stuck for good.

Ever since she has felt a dissonance from a pleasure. But back to her present past we were talking about...she is walking down a hallway feeling that nice fuzzy synth feeling. The sexiness and the sway in her own hips is even electrifying her...turning her on....getting lost in the restroom between her own legs and also a straw up her own nose....CHOP CHOP CHOP...then the sweet SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF.....circling her reflection in the mirror after each hit trying to see how it changed her on the outside....she felt so alive for the first time after a life that seemed to have been filled with oppression prior to this dark crystals reawakening of her senses. But she began to see shadows in the night; shadows of the past, shadows leading to the monster's locked away in the recesses of her mind that were only allowed out sometimes. She felt lost in the dreaming of this toxicity of her inner haven...even her psyche had been taken over. All she longed to do was ****, smoke, please, and be incredibly beautiful and feel wanting/wanted....desire in the purest form no matter what it was about or what it was for....forever spinning around looking for what was not lost, but definitely for something in herself and others that was never quite enough. That's probably why she lost that one man, or the next....she could never fully finish because it was an ongoing walking, uncontrollable stimulation....always on the brink of ****** and always searching for it. Even after feeling it it didn't seem to quite satisfy..."I can't get No Satisfaction" comes to her ear in these moments...blinding her ****, spilling into her overly absorbed and enlightened prefrontal cortex. She thought she was such a genius...planning to make money and run away into this lifestyle and never re-emerge again. Oh but she was cunty and ****** up and made too many fall in love with her....and after the only one she truly loved betrayed her....told her and showed her that he could never be the lover he promised he would be in prison, well....she got spun for life and hasn't been fully untangled since....It's a drought season in the year of that love....she could bring about all the desire in that man, even make him love her....for who she really was not just the doped up junkhead she had become....but it would never be enough because his demons couldn't be satisfied with anything but a jail life full of structure. Her ***** lips couldn't seal him in tight enough, close enough to home to stick.....and so as he disappeared from her heart willingly....so did her sanity. Going truly mad over this sick and constantly incarcerated beautifully disgusting soul broke her. Wanting to love him better, to love him the way she wanted to be loved so bad.......and not getting it not even once. . . Travesty in her heart...sobriety spinning her out into dope again, and the ten mile walk of shame after she couldn't find him again when he ran from her insanity that had been induced....well....she almost died just trying to stay in love with the one person in all her dope days that made her feel loved and celebrated....not just ******, symmetrical, and ideal.....she never wanted to be ideal, she just wanted to be enough.
Riding along with her own self hate on the coaster of her life into all the wibbly wobbly bits of life that could never be explained away....only tears could seal them far enough for heart to be so far from touching them she didn't even want to go through the trouble anymore

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff." -The Doctor in "Blink (2007)"

"Remember that time we.."
Her voice calls to me from tomorrow.
From yesterday. From a flat in England
in 1969, all **** carpets and counterculture.
All go-go boots and ginger hair.

"Can't wait till we.."
Her voice calls to me from today.
From nowhen. From the bed
a few blocks down the road.
All apologies and heretos
and whyfors.

"Spoilers.."
She says with a smile
that cracked on her face
yesterday and ends
somewhen.

a change to the smell of chlorine in our hair
and sticky watermelon juice on my thighs
that you wipe away with your thumbs
ill grin into your flushed cheeks
and **** on your strawberry seed lined tongue
and when we sit in your car and try to rub away the goosebumps on our arms
the towels underneath us damp and the ac ******* the air from our lungs
ill be able to sing along to the wibbly wobbly ballad on the radio
and feel peace

If my physical wellbeing is any kind of indicator
I'd say that I'm wibbly-wobbly, piney-whiney.

Once upon a morning dreary,
On a wibbly-wobbly urban prairie,
I hit the road barely fearing -
As the fool who has no fearing -
And there came a car.


In a sudden, asked is it the end,
I'm not surprised, but how to pretend,
While I am always steering -
Just as badly as the driver's steering -
My emotions behind a striped bar.


Since the moment was so sneaky,
And the car's break creaked up creepy,
At least for the people seeing -
Hearing, if people were ever existing -
And not just imaginaire.


In that second's timeless land,
I had no social expression to send,
Signing to them that I'm living -
Lying to them I'm a human being -
So, I just stood bare.


And behind that timeless scene,
Angry drivers and people were seen,
With me standing there -
A guilty criminal sharing his despair -
A social monster without cover.

Tongue tingling our footsteps as we tread along the coast
Till the tingling tangles and our eyes become deceived
Footsteps fumbling and the walk becomes a lean
What's going on Bruce?
Well we're trippin' East

Steadily stepping our way along Aus Coast
Undulating pathway the challenge of our feet
Our whole self overwhelmed with intense jungle heat
Drips a dropping from each and every pore of skin
Heats a rising as we are headed East

We puzzle a pace set by deceived perspective
And encounter Koala kicking back in the tree
Worrying for impression set by our wibbly wobbly knees
And now a questioning are my eyes playing with me?
Kalaidescoped koala eyes double dare our quest East

A pause in the pathway proves a place of rest
Creates chance to cool off our oven cooked sheen
Watching waves crash and mesmerised in sea
So laid back now stretched beyond a lean
Relaxing now we're siding it most East

Fumbling forwards fulfils quest to reach giant fan
Our minds not now making life so sensibly
Not so sure of anything with any certainty
But no question of whether it could be more perfectly
Rewards been given grand on our venture East

Settling so high at the lighthouse we reach success
Where we're mesmerised in the motion of the mountains breathing
Exhaling clouds a twirling as horizon is swirling
Seas and skies ahead are all entrancing
Eyes lost in a vision of East

Toes treading frogs squished beneath our feet
Sky shadows darkness so we start to venture back
Hunting bin for beverage but there's severe lack
So continue with the liquid slowly spreading in my sack
Senses stumbled from our venture East

Journey into jungle hope to find direction home
Darkness steals our vision so not sure it's right
Saved slightly by flashing glow of poi light
But can only hear, not see the creatures of the night
No knowledge now if we head West or East

Heats arising further trapped within the trees
Tallest takes spiders on so we can travel comfortably
Arms a held wide holding us steadily
Then find our way to freedom reaching beach excitedly
Made it through the jungle of the East

But continues good feeling as dip skinny in the sea
Feet squeaking sand and sea crashing on our skin
Try to fight them but these waves will always win
So to scarper now and go in hunt of green
The final piece to complete adventure East

Mission soon complete when we meet Brother Bear
The night turns trippier from that moment there
Free hugs a given but instead create a scare
Crazy woman shouting and men with fake hair
Realising we are still trippin' East

So at our home for now, the Art Factory
I think we find it be the place we love the most
Thick natural jungle our most fantastic host
Loving life purely but never one to boast
Still sure this is the haven of the East

Lay out flat and eyes still lost in the sky
With colours changing it's a sign I'm still high
Can't count the insects they chirp in overdrive
And waves crashing like the distance is a lie
Senses strongly active here in the East

Journey started East and further went
Minds far and eyes long
Up and down and on and on
As far East as we could have gone

Face, Hands, Feet
Feet, Face, Hands
Hands, Feet, Face

I read life in faces
in smiles
in wrinkles
and crinkles
and crow’s feet
I read life in faces
in tears
in eyes
and byes
and wibbly wobbly lips
I read life in faces
in blushes
in glances
and tilted winks
and looks of surprise
I read life in faces
in eyebrows
in eye-rolls
and shakes of the head
I read life in faces
In expressions
In language
And voices
And accents
I read life in hands
In calluses
In knuckles
and bitten fingernails
I read life in hands
In lines
In creases
and lefts
And rights
I read life in hands
In paper cuts
in ink stains
and picked at cuticles
I read life in hands
In holds
In handshakes
and chin resting places
I read life in hands
In puppets
In tickles
And pinky promises

I read life in feet
In walks
In tip-toes
And dances
I read life in feet
In heels
In flats
and grass between toes
I read life in feet
In steps
In lunges
And plunges
And climbs
I read life in feet
in far-a way’s
In nearbyes
And sock-feet at home
I read life in feet
Not inches
Not yards
Nor meters
Not miles per hour
But feet.

Face,Feet,Hands
Hands,Face,Feet
Feet,Hands,Face

i like it when my vision fills with color
kaleidoscoping into hybrid hues

or when skinny fine lines
grow into weathered wrinkles

i like it when borders border on nonexistent
and everything blends together
unseparated
unsegregated

i like it when lines grow bold
the strokes of a paintbrush gaining confidence
with every motion

i like it when lines are crossed
over and over
into a tangle of yarn
everything connecting
dissolving
into
a ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff

i like it when lines are blurred
and reality breaks down
letting my imagination roam wildly

i like it when things don't make sense
because i always know
that i can find that line
that leads me back home

Jelly babies I love them so
All squishy and fruity
In my mouth
How I like to squash them down

I bite their heads of then the legs
And leave them scared
Wibbly jelly babies
Your all dead

I laugh at the look of their tiny face
As one by one they fill a space
In my tummy
What a disgrace

what is fate?
if not, the hindsight
of hope and circumstance..
combined to form....
life's wibbly-wobbly jello....

like looking at a ****** video of an alien
through hi-def 3D lenses, wibbly wobbly
(things that don't make sense to your eyes)
like laying in a field, still
while the rest of the world spins around you
like feeling all too much so it hurts
and wanting to feel so much more
crying and screaming and laughing
the urge to jump out of yourself
because your soul is packed in so tight.

thoughts bump into each other in your head
released from their cages they swim through your mind
they whisper or they scream and you don't know which is worse
you want to talk to someone, anyone
but you know the words would come out all too fast
plus who says this feeling isn't just a little nice?

lights on, lights off
colors flash as you open and close your laptop.
a threatening screen, yet welcoming, comforting at the same time.
a bright light in the dark of night
how can you help but stare?

more words swim faster
you laugh, don't try to stop them
let yourself go for the night
(the irony is that you're holding onto something anyway)
something intangible, unreal, but there
keeping you still, frozen.
euphoric, psychedelic, hyperactive
does anything really make sense?

standing up will pull you back down hard
listen and you hear a deafening empty silence
fill it with your sobs of frustration.
it won't end until you cry yourself to sleep
and the bed suddenly seems so soft...