the last few minutes

dear ring it in diary,

an extra special surprise tonight, but one that i didn't necessarily want. big open arms and plenty of laughter, i know the routine. i hear ya. i know why it does what it does at least, TO ME anyway. i have  figured that much out so far and maybe that's all i need to know. i'm kinda satisfied with the way things turned out and saddened by the way things never were. with all of the great joy and accomplishment this past year has brought, it has also reminded me of yet more lessons i obviously needed taught. sometimes you have to let go of everything to keep what you need. i can do that.  

this surely is a dream

retaining solar power

dear darkness to follow diary,

if we only had about an hour of daylight left, then it would be pitch dark a few more hours after that. when i go to bed and it is dark outside and i wake up and it is dark outside, and stays dark outside, that is when i know i have slept like a fucking songbird. i love the darkness. there is a quietness and comfort there that stabilizes my soul. it is within the darkness that i can be anything i want to be and go anywhere i want to go. the darkness guides me into the places i will not go in the light. i hate sunscreen anyway.

magic places

dear forever if diary,

if ever there was a time to think about it, i'd reckon that time would be now. i have already thought long and hard, so i am done thinking about it for a while. sure, i still come back to the notion every so often, but i no longer need to dwell like i realize others must. being preoccupied is an awful circumstance and one i can say is much easier living free from. yes, it is true what they say.... all of it. so i would listen carefully next time.

palmolive deep sink treatment

dear moving things around diary,

moving my fingernail polish shelf racks made my whole bedroom look bigger. staining the light natural wood the dark color was the unibomber's idea and it made the whole house stink. it is hard telling what will fill up the free wall now, but i'll betcha it wont sit open long- nothing ever does around here- space is limited. when the living room gets vacuumed, the dogs act like they've found new land. myself, i am anxious to get the new kitchen sink and counter tops. i think one big old fashioned deep sink would be just stupid bad ass.

the scooter fitzgerald translation

dear pearly gates of Heaven diary,

what's going to happen if we all get to the next level and don't like our new neighbors? who are we supposed to call then? will there even be any kind of phone system or will you just think the digits '463' and God will speak to you in your head? will i be able to keep becky? and how about the grump? i worry about these things because i am one of those people who've always wondered about the mayans and their fucking calendar. you know somewhere i've wanted to go all my life has been stonehenge. i prolly would have already been there except now i know someone who went, tammy, and she said you cant even get up to it anymore. i wanted to touch them, possibly lick one of the giant man arranged time pieces, and now they're all fenced off from the public and protected. you'll know when a moment for honesty comes, for it will make truth out of every illusion you have ever created.

seconds count

dear rocker recliner diary,

the last day of the year. we have 1,432 minutes left before the ball drops in our time zone. don't worry, if your ball hasn't dropped by now there is a pretty good chance it wont. i think balls are beautiful, in their own way, even ones that aren't perfectly round. there is a rare but serious genetic condition which affects the males reproductive system, but i do know anyone whom this condition has ever been associated with- that i know of. i don't go around checking balls, thank goodness.

everything i do; the dry wash

dear itch my head diary,

before i got here i can only assume there was another whore just like me who did just as good of job, IF NOT BETTER, than i've done. i had no idea it was a contest. i had no clue there was a prize. but when i can write the words, "knowing all the misery that consumes you has overtaken my every desire to wait for the chance to watch through the window," and know what they mean.... i don't need a special shampoo.

fish scales in sea major barfbag

dear tossing the basket diary,

i remember that distinct ache when i realized how stupid i was. fuck me, did that shit ever hurt like hell and sometimes it still does when i cant swallow, which ain't very often- because i don't eat anything coconut flavored anymore. so yeah. there are other things i wont put in my mouth other than coconuts, but moving beyond that, i think the new year will not only be full of many exciting changes in my own personal life, but i see visions of change on the grandest of scales.

my morning pillow warmer

welcome to mississippi

dear part of free diary,

the 18th is coming up pretty fast and i couldn't be happier. my next project has so much more potential. i am no longer a broken star. the growth is so painfully obvious, the healing crystal clear, even the majority of my written thoughts are complete and i even brush my hair. i've got a road map of texas and you can see that it's a big ole fuckin state. i really don't have too many reasons to go there, but if i don't hurry up, well, i just might be late.

my label record

dear sing loud diary,

ima still like to sing in the car. i heard myself sing tonight and i straight up fucking suck and nobody has ever told me before. so now i must really try not to sing out loud while others are around, but i know sometimes i will. tonight while going down the road enjoying myself, i heard this horrible sound i'd never heard before, oh my gawd it was terrible. the only time i didn't hear the screeching bellow is when i wasn't singing, i learned MY lesson and became somewhat offended. i've always loved to sing as loud as i can and i've never hurt my own ears... until now. tonight i came to the logical conclusion that my singing career has prolly passed me by. that's just stupid.

coupons for carpet cutters

dear bubble up and dry diary,

shaving my area in the shower made me remember the five dollar coupon i need to use before the 31st. i fucking ordinarily hate coupons, but for five bucks i get excited. shaving doesn't get me excited anymore, that is why i hardly ever do it. the water bill sure has dropped since i quit taking a bath. this time last year that son of a bitch was over a hundred dollars and i remember paying it too. but that is when i took three baths a day and didn't think twice about eating a steak dinner in the tub and watching nancy grace. i wouldn't mind soaking but i don't feel like cleaning out the tub at the moment so the shower is fine. i cant wait til springtime gets here, but i am not looking forward to all the mud in my bed.  

just now on your bed

dear don't flick your meat over here diary,

sometimes it is so easy to step into and then other times.... not so easy. people often want answers to the questions i cant give them. at first it was fun to try and explain how it works and now- just a pain in my ass and that is why i stopped doing it. so for those who don't already know, well, i no longer have the ability to tell you. if you left me in nashville, i'd be able to get home- put it to you that way. the instincts in the human mind are truly amazing. but adhering to the policies of the instincts is the tricky part. only those who remain dedicated in the most profound manner will understand any part of what i said and that is why i don't have to explain anymore and this blog is then no longer needed.

the seeker (who makes no sense)

dear how can i explain diary,

i been had the words trying to get out of my head now for all this time posting because thought it necessary i did to unleash what was left that bound the wicked parts that were left of my soul together so that i could gain someday the strength to again fully trust and admire the love i know now that is possible to grow inside my tiny cold hardened heart. before it was all a lie. stacks upon stacks those lies have been replaced now with burning images of the truth, testimony and hundred dollar bills and a divine skid mark compliments of Karma. i been had the joy for my friend for a while- to be always greetin the world with a smile. as powerful as it was that day, it will come again my way.

a penny for your thoughts and a dollar for your panties

dear staged and caged diary,

the landscape of everything has changed. what goes on behind the scenes? wouldn't you like to know? i would, but the problem is, once you find out- you cant un-know. ya know? if everything stayed the same it would be boring though, or would it? to some it prolly would be boring, but to others being a missionary brings a sort of comfort that nothing else ever could. if you had a choice, would you choose or just stand around bored? how would you know if you even had a choice? how would you know if you are bored? i was bored once, but i'm not a missionary anymore. the world is always changing.

king kong

powdered cheese is nasty and i HATE scratchy yarn

dear thread through the eye of the needle diary,

i can sew but i think i would rather mow at this point. sewing is stupid and it costs more to buy the material than it does to go out and purchase the finished product. that is straight up what is wrong with our world today and it has been for a long time. it may taste better to make homemade macaroni and cheese, but who can afford that? sometimes when you find things on sale you like and stock up on them, it seems like a great idea... but it ain't.

scrap heavy metal hair band

dear in a hand far far up close diary,

i cant really say i always knew, because that my dear blogsters would be a genuine lie. i didn't always know, in fact, i hardly ever knew. what i can say with some factual certainty, i found out the hard way and now i know all about it. see, it isn't until you know these things that one is able to forget and that is the real charm on the necklace. i don't wear so much jewelry as i used to. i don't like it anymore. i took my real shit to the safety deposit box, because that's what you do, i guess, and my junk shit lays around in the car consoles and in my make-up bag and everywhere in between. i no longer feel the need to have 'fish hooks' dangling from my lobes. i suppose that would be why i am not suited for ink, tribal or otherwise.

choosing only one number in the barnyard tonight

dear knowing today was different diary,

the air around my hair feels thicker today, yet i can breathe just the same. it must just me in my head, the thick air feeling. when i woke up, i decided to set out in a different direction today, but then i fell back asleep laying there and i forgot what i wanted to do when it came time to get up again, so now i am here trying to explain that to myself. today will be an easy day after all. i will believe anything. now that i have that all figured out, something tells me i need to take a shower. often times i dread the shower until i actually remove all of my exterior clothing and step into the warm water and then i know i have done the right thing. it isn't so much that i mind being dirty, but sometimes it is nice to smell less funky.

i'd move your 'Karma truck' mommy

dear cut a window to the bone diary,

unlike the first time i realized it happened, the key moment of the ending is what drove home the finality of it all for the second time. it put a whole new kind of pressure knowing it's gone full circle twice over. it is hard to believe anything can survive in such a harsh environment, but it can, and what remains after the second go round may be deadly. with no light and little vegetation, only the specialists will survive there, but you are so special, as am i. i can appreciate the simple things, but i don't want to go there again. i have asked the tides of Karma to recede, even though i already know it is too late. it may be a good idea to clear the vehicle for further invitation away from your area. but don't take on more than you can handle, especially if you are still waiting for yet another ride.

comfortable love disaster

dear combining motion diary,

wearing my mouth guard is not very comfortable to jam around the house in. then there is the issue of becky and her complete obsession with knowing i have something squeaky in my mouth- it drives her insane when we cuddle, it makes her ears twitch. i think she thinks i am chewing on a kong. i wish i was a dog just like becky- with an owner just like me. becky and the grump are two lucky animals. i encourage my animals to be the most loving creatures on the planet and it really has paid off. i absorb every pound of love that pours out of becky and even the tiny specks the grump exfoliates every now and then.

the unkind mindset of a heartless thought

dear the strip of good diary,

it isn't enough that i choose not to remember, it's that i cant forget. someday, maybe one day ,those memories will die and no longer exist and i wont have to hide from them anymore. i do still hide sometimes when i have to. true, those times have become less and less, but they still come and when they do, i become sad and angry and withdrawn and usually i sleep for about 77 hours and then take a shower and try and resume my happy little sorry excuse for a life. but with each cycle i become stronger, because i feel more retarded than ever and i laugh my ass off as if i'd just woken up from some fantastic coma, and i am not at all kidding, i am accountable for what's happened. i laugh and then i'll crave a green river.

I can not lay in this bed all day again today. Ima get up before it gets dark prolly.

the alarm cock

dear watching the clock again diary,

even in my dreams i couldn't get away from time. i cant stop thinking about it. i saw many clocks for sale while sleeping and even picked out the one i intended on buying. i cant get past the notion that we humans DID NOT INVENT TIME, we adapted to it. knowing that we as a whole species can change makes all the difference to me. things in our world didn't get this way overnight and they certainly wont correct themselves in a day or even two, but if we didn't define time, how long is a day? maybe shit got all fucked up because our perceptions have been all skewed. with so many scientists and theorists arguing over how the existence of time came to be, maybe we aren't even here yet. the reality you think you know may be just your reality, or no reality at all. we all come installed with internal 'time' pieces and if yours is even the slightest bit out of sync with the universal time, well, that's when you think your life is perfect and your wedding ring means something.

expired library card (check me out in 22 years)

dear the underlying clause diary,

the current unwritten contract states how improper it is to have little to no regret, whatsoever, about anything that should or should not be bothering you at the current time. welcome to the year 2033, when things may be different then. crossing all biological boundaries, i wonder if time is real. did we as humans invent the theory of time, or did time come before space? i always figured thomas t. time invented the watch, just as charles c. calendar invented the months of the year, but it as turns out, it doesn't work that way. oh no, time invented us. i wondered for a moment tonight, that when you die- if maybe you just move to another time, but that isn't mentioned in my contract.

the girl with no tattoo (love you girl)

dear "skid row" diary,

i never did understand why the bands poison and skid row didn't merge and become one band. i have a friend, who shall remain nameless at this point, but she would be the only one to argue with me when i announce- both of the above named bands sucked, the only one brave enough to stand up and admit that she still likes poison. smallpox is supposed to exist only in two places, in siberia and centers for disease control in atlanta, but the russians invented a new strain, so what does that tell you? someone else out there likes poison too. my mom always told me, "if you play with fire, you're gonna get burned prolly," and i cant make cookies without eating the raw dough either. sometimes i make chocolate chip cookies without the chocolate chips just to refrigerate the dough and eat it later and sometimes i have a fire just to watch it burn, but never to burn myself. 

with or without a teaspoon of seasalt

dear swallow that diary,

it is more of a celebration for some than others, but for me it is a week of remembrance more than anything. being taught from such an early age about loss and the significance of it, i assume is why i tend to obsess over the reflection part longer than the party. loss is nearing once again. it will be time to remember for everyone else and i will be working on finding the pieces to make peace with it all. i've spent many years mourning and i've spent many more grieving, but one of these days it'll be my turn to celebrate.

seven years ago this day

dear sleeping all day to feel rested diary,

when i wake up, i usually have enough energy to at least get out of bed and fiddle around for a little while. but today was all together different. you see, today i woke up and could not move. not only was i pinned down to my bed, but my body just wasn't responding the was i was asking it to.  like, i would say, "legs you may move now," and my legs would just lay there limp. i finally just gave in, not knowing what would happen if i forced the issue. i watched the news, only to learn there are some who are fascinated by the fact that the day after Christmas has fallen on a monday. one reporter even pointed out the last time this happened was in 2006, but i got to thinking it happened in 2005 as well, i was pretty sure, so i when i fucking mustered up enough energy together i went and looked in my little calendar and what do you know, it was. it was freaky i could remember what i did that day, WITHOUT LOOKING, i might add, but then my mind never sleeps- even when my body wont move.

i love the tribune

dear newspaper articles and stuff for my motion book of scraps diary,

yes, i know anyone who has been reading these stupid inserts over the last eleven months and one week would certainly be shocked to learn i keep almost everything. yup, everything from the fortunes in cookies to handwritten notes, to receipts and snippets from the newspaper. ima not quite a 'scrapbooker' yet, but i have it all ready to go for when the day comes when i want to be that again someday. i keep telling myself that eventually there will be a common thread to pull all of this garbage together into a nice production worthy of an oscar. sometimes epic tales of magnicficant proportion seem to almost write themselves.

requesting information on the caller

dear why would i've gone there diary,

think of me when you peek through the hole, i wont be waiting on the other side. i wouldn't strain my eyes very much looking through the tiny hole either, things wont much have changed for you out here. it could have been different- if ida waited somewhere near that hole, but things, well, things got complicated. but that's neither here nor there, the grand divide, but it did happen for a reason. i'd figured ida stayed near that hole forever you know, but knowing the misery consumes you has overtaken any desire to wait for the chance to watch through the window. good bye is something you say to someone you knew, and i never even knew you.

ham & cheese (hold your rye)

dear two coats of clear paint and a wedding ring of fire diary,

missing the edge on my left thumb nail nearly by a quarter inch, it was either repaint the two coats of basecoat or put another topcoat of clear, i chose the later. as well it turns out that i still feel the same way about the show happy days  as i did some thirty odd years ago... i hate it. i watched about eighteen minutes of that until i could no longer stand it. all i want is to sleep without heartburn, but all that terrific rump roast i ate absolutely tore my ass up. it is so weird how history repeats itself. i cant be the only one who figured this out and i cant be the only one who remembers.

the bent feather of a rash bird

dear monetary value of the syndrome diary,

some people will go to any length to make sure they get their monies worth of attention, even when it is freely given. if you want to pay for something, try paying for something you need. try paying attention instead of paying for attention. if you make a big fuss about something, ruffle your feathers and the like, and nobody seems to notice, or at least not the person you wanted, what are you supposed to do then? put on a bigger show? make more noise? pay for more attention? you could always be a victim, that's your usual "mo." i don't know, but i would be willing to possibly extend one line of revolving silent credit. however, i remain unaffected and uninterested in  your attention deficit syndrome.