I sit here at an unfamiliar keyboard where the space bar sticks.

I’m here on my blog to pour my emotions into the universe. Not the ones of sadness, but of disappointment and love. I’ve got both and I’ve got them bad.

Sorely disappointed in so many ways. Anger to the point of burning tears and furious breathing. How can this happen? The trust has been broken for the 5th time in twenty years. It makes me older by the minute.

And there you are. Alluring, seductive and ripe. My head is  in the clouds.  I want one night.

I Wail

I wail.

I look to the sky and wail

Exposing my throat

The pale, vigrx plus results tender white skin

Left wide open

To the dangers within.

None more dangerous,

None more cunning.

Nothing heard,

Not even the gurgle.

Here For Peace

Here, here for peace. My mind is racing, racing, racing. I couldn’t slow it down if I tried. I’m having to stop periodically and concentrate on what I’m doing and why. My mind won’t stop with the noise. It’s not usually this bad. I hate this.

Have had those thoughts, the persistent ones for two days now. Have another piece of the puzzle solved. There’s 3 parts left.

I’m cleaning out drawers and getting rid of clothes that no longer fit. Fat bitch.

Oh crap, every word I say. I want to say to you.

My armpit hurts, is that normal? Been a couple of months now. Do you think that’s a bad thing? Is it my imagination?

I can’t have what I want. No body will give it to me. I can’t take it because it’s not mine but I know what I want.

I’ like to get in the car and drive. No destination, just drive. I take that back, I know exactly where I would go. I can’t do that. I’d ruin everything. I’d just have to go the place of early childhood where it was safe and good.

I saw the Super 8 Movie. He was there. I got to see him in the stinking flesh. I saw his niece chasing him and him running away from her because he didn’t want anyone figuring it out. I wasn’t the only one. Bastard.

I’m decomposing on the inside. I feel guts turning to slime, jiggling in some places and sliding in others. Dead meat on the surface. Rape.

Please don’t ring the doorbell! I can’t go to the door like this. I hate it when I have to hide in my own house. This must stop. Too scary, too unpredictable.

Buttholes, I wish I could tell ya what a-holes you are. Isn’t there a law against run on sentences. Viva la enter! Make a new paragraph for gosh sake, I can’t understand it if it’s not chopped up. Too few paragraphs make it all too much for me.

Truly. I’m decompensating, where’s the phone?