August and Other Incontinence

8:12:07- OK, Computer I'll play part-time prodigy to loosen up the state-of-the-art manacles I may use to bind, torture, and kill tomorrows measurements of anti-trust...Her mouth was an empty curr. I've filled coffins with lilies that didn't bleed this much. Could I ever be the face on the other side of the Optiker?
8:12:07- I stay awake waiting, O' Fortune, wrestle me a pic, last name, favorite color and font. Just joking, though I'd like to have a good cry after a new goodbye, counting up our palate a heavy adjustment on the lens, Figure 8, and just Figuring out ourselves through the day to day doctrines we prescribe to all that comes down to Happy.
Two fixtures planted in a garden, glistening annunciation resting in the corners of my mouth upon plantation to a dream about to wakeup.
Born to places I don't go much anymore, built into an empire of shadows summarized by torn pages simplified by the NorthShore wind. Ryan's complaining is out of fear, jealousy, greed, and Pleasure...coughing up blood and black. Maybe it's time to quit. Already running down adverbs wearing Lycra and four-leaf clovers. Make a wish Cinderella, and maybe today's the day your prince will come.
:13:07-I love that you're a woman Kristina. Last night visions of sand between our toes, hotel sex, and morning showers danced over me like street parade floats with memories specific to days of the week we shared. Wanted Clark's but to be with a me that wouldn't order a Coke or Pepsi no ice, a waffle with whipped cream on the side would have been an appetite depressant. I still taste. This palate misses you. I should've digested more. But I'll make a whisper out of you.

hewn-
querulous-(fiber?)
orgiastic-
relegating-

Page 2 is hanging on by a thread. Icelandic renditions to be allotted this upcoming Sunday night. If reunition occurs will there be prerequisite operative readings of my writings? Noticed a burn hole in a lounge chair several cups of coffee could be shared about on conversational topics rectified by the subtle redolence of CK1.

Could I deck out a life to Air, jungle gyms, playgrounds, sand traps, phone numbers scratched out on neon green tissue paper, the symphony of smiling introductions I acquiesce upon during the docile moments in my after night?

8:16:07- We went to the Wilshire for lunch, she had the grilled tuna filet and wore David Webb. The most beautiful woman in Southern California she was. The Matisse exhibit. I fell asleep in a masterpiece chair, she kissed the top of my head, my cheek, and massaged my shoulders, rousing me from a dream I was having about her. I have a thing for spotting angels, do you see, do you see IT's an angel? Can I cum inside you, and kiss your hair? Squeeze your legs and lick your belly button? Suck your lips and call your father? Am I regretting meaningless rings, shared public places, and amateur films? But I'm so colorful!

Just want to be beautiful(Pretty, Ugly Before) flesh tones and touch-ups, make-ups and feminism. There, an elevator beat. No returns....only perfume...soft blue cotton blankets, bobby pins and Kennedy's. Deep-spells soo thatch work; like creek brush and back paddling, a forced-feed,-lily pads have eyes like mine, smooth on the surface, but submerged by murky waters, covering up it all. Everything is so dissonant. Alizarin. Tope. and Drowsy.
8:16:07- I've taken a pornograph of myself following my death outline on the color-by-slumber dots. I taste poor taste. It's excrement of underground misery. Am I no more than the sickness I hypchondriate within myself?
I'm more artist than obituary. Dangling errands, unfinished sympathies, the cross-hairs focused on my slow recovery. There's blood in my mouth. Wounds. I've begun.
8:17:07- There were a
gi r l
thin, pristine unique
no bicycle with bicycle
small, pristine unique
black black, dark hair
patterns
thin, pristine petite
8:17:07- I'm sawing another limp blood trailing my face, just too recalcitrant to understand. Criss-crossed my brain, flying over disbelief piecing back the incomplete. Required tag games and no-more pain, lists of reasons and helpful sayings. Driveways stitch this anytime Mother, Casper? Are you still alive?
She will make men weep. The air in here is placid, moves in a language that is not flowery, is gray. unfriendly. hurts friends and lovers, leaves plaque on the eyes, and stains the mouth.
Folded over pages and tourniquet smiles plastered to change, and ranging sympathy. No better helping drunk drunks when the dry ones are freezing. condiments diseased. Destination zero is right around the sky, a feeling of beginning a thought come to an end. Sisters of sickness breeding strep throat, universal remotes set music on pause. Hammer heart-break is the Easy Way Out.
8:17:07- Is there no reason, but reason itself to love, cherish, care, adore, admonish, serve, heal, befriend, like, and embedd myself with her. I water bled today at Main & Dodge. track 02 on Five Leaves Left, "Most likely. In(m) trying to figure that out. Talk to u later xx." Text message kissing is a settlement I'll settle for. There is hope there.
08:19:07- Birth of a postcard. Tied strings to static carrying off my sweat dripping face, pellets of insecurity recovering in the minute to minute.
'
Restless reds
Berkshire suites
apostrophe carelessness
nd
Thai sticks, look so suite
secret rendezvous
[I] don't dare ask
8:19:07-Read everything Kierkegaard. Check out Steven Merritt. Look at the sculptures of E.V. Day.
martial exhortation
Introversion to over-reaction like interpreting to audio-biographical late night news to be a reflection in my liner notes. Not sharing my precious territory, wake-up to dilution, a parchment water hugged out, and pulled reason from underneath the singing cuticles of astringents. Hailed from the obvious to a point of presentation, healthy rejection. No more than acquiring the most G.E. to thread bare overtures on the adrenaline shots exposed by overactive voyeurism. Clever-girls, attraction clauses, feather boas in Dallas-town flight plans, getting caught in snack of listening in on secret sharing. Late-night worlds opening up ahead of, slow ambitious discharge, holding reservations for 10en ure among us.
And(we) ask ourselves is it introverted internal post-doctoral picturesque or on-stage illness pervade.
It's not dangerous to hang around me one on one, there is no threat, but the cloud stricken tumuli of my drad energy fear it, as they do, scares the shit out of people....intensity everlasting. Still. Too intense. shutter, click, shutter, click. Vortex obliged.
Borrowed two movies from April, going to have comedic tragedy night, urn alumni of the month. Been thinking about the Chicago purchase of a safety deposit box to stowaway some of the most pronounced emotions, telephone numbers, and speed dial loves. Forever like a golden charge. chum the world with my always eyes and exposure lips. Coughing from the smoke or sickness that might be seeping through? Referencing infidelity by street names out of use Potomac, Maplewood, Allison Ct., Talcott, Chester, and Miner. I'm digging deep now prying ironies for safety in sadness.
I'm involved in buying flowers seasons ahead of their time.
Preparation. Leverage. Amp Gain.
8:19:07- Buy Highwater jeans. Checkout Motorgoat, Calamity Jane, Crackerbash, and Hazel. Reticence-
The words and meanings rattled off carelessly in my head/broken suggestion, muttered phrases, merely caught in what was said/later on I'd drive it out and smoke another cigarette in bed.
I hate Llamas they make me want to shoot myself.
We laid on the brown leather sofa in the house in Laguna. I am on my back, she wearing her Paige denim and a long sleeve white shirt with a gray top underneath. She laughed and giggled, we smiled in childlike bliss, she straddled me, and leaned down to kiss me as I cradled the nape of her neck in the palm of my hand, and kissed her forehead. Love. It was like the heat from the sun(constant). Car rides with hands on legs, hands on necks. We ate expensive lunches, sitting silently, in the aesthetic of connection. Laughing curiously at the dry humor occurring.
8:20:07- Suspect of infection. Contaminated. No fever, but perhaps it's viral, maybe I'll catch the imminent death...1 bedroom apt or petri-dish? Collection of Vasectomy. 40 minutes. I need a wire brush for grooming my paint, the Acrylic Eye of the angry suitor cauterized by the slurring of motives I annunciate into not sleeping to be late to an interview at noon. Seems late. Two thermometers 97.9 and 98.4. Relax me, subtle ease of comfort too close to be convenient or reasonable.
I would've kept the feet, shackled the limbs, and gorged Mothers' secret. I envy, greed, and anguish. This servitude.-97.9 again-will I enterprise pyramids, take slaves, Zeus-fuck the resting, and permeate the timeline with another beginning towards the end