Things you cut.

wanted to write a pretty poem tonight, but this came out instead.

i've cut class

and i've cut my veins

i've cut paper

and animal remains

i've cut into wood

and cut into glass

i've cut up some drugs

and i've cut the grass

i've cut my legs shaving

i've cut them free will

i've cut up grapefruits

i've cut up the bills

i've cut costs

taken short cuts

and cut off my hair

i've cut food to cook

and i've cut to prepare

i've cut in line

and i've cut people off

i've cut in, cut it out

and cut down on stuff

but no cut has ever hurt quite as badly

as hearing you're cutting ties

with me

(and not sadly).

Proud of this.

Sunsets are purple because of pollution. Sad for environmentalists, but lovely for everyone.

It has been time.

Time to get a new watch!

No, but it is time to quit this motif of "who are you and why have you ruined my life?" I've been so blue lately, and it's time for violet or something.

I am looking for a hobby. And I think I have an idea. I have been working on a project, an art installation of sorts, and I have it all in the works. Maybe I'll unleash it here. But it's so personal. So so so personal. It's like all my good dreams were drained into this concept and it left me with nightmares for months. (Which is true. Couldn't close my eyes without something really bad happening. So sleeping pills became a bad habit, but I am cold-turkey. Cold-hand-turkey if you will. ) But yeah. Everything beautiful I have ever thought, ever hoped, written, all my love went into this art, and it left me all empty.

Things are starting to normalize now though. Maybe I am not constantly creating enchanting, whimsical works, but I'm at least not having nightmares. It's not champagne, but it's not water either. Life's like...club soda. A little bubblier than nothing, but not indulgent and ecstatic that makes me kiss everyone on New Year's Eve.

The timing could be better...but like I said. Time for a new watch.

I'm

Sorry.

I love you all.

I can't tell if it's a novel or a series.

You know that feeling you get when everything seems like it's not real, and it's in a movie or book or something? Every little dramatic thing you're feeling just seems unreal, and like it's being laid out for you by some cruel writer. Well, that's me. And I can't tell if this author plans on ending the book soon, or if it's going to be a series. Either way. Life's far too climactic, and, frankly, I really hate it.

I've developed this cough, that manifests only at night through the early morning, but consequently, I've lost my voice. I think this author may also have a voodoo doll of me. Or, which is the far more likely, my character was not all that important to the plot, and I'm being killed off.

Whatever.

But yeah. My character, or me, whichever, is the most uninspired I've ever been. I can't paint, write, poem, nothing. And it is manifesting physically in my lack of voice. I can't talk to my cat, or talk on the phone, or order a drink. Or. Explain myself.

Something's not right. So. Author, can you do me a solid? Uncomplicate, and give me a muse.

You know what's funny? I re-read this, and I'm not going into the details that I used to love. So, suffer, readers. I'm uninspired, and I'm probably past my prime. I'm holding back a little, not going to lie, but it's still nonsense/rubbish/any word for "sucks" and trite.

Well, I've taken my sedatives tonight. I should be asleep soon.

Similes. Not to be confused with Smiles.

I feel like an army. A whole army fighting some war. And boy, am I losing. People used to be all altruistic, but morale is fading. Mugwumps, tergiversators, and fifth-columnists. It's a trench war, and rats are eating my wounded troops. Others are willing to venture into no man's land weaponless, taking it all. More barbed wire adorns my troops than ribbons and medals. And no one is back home with a torch song. While many more burn their draft cards, on the tombs of my troops that have died. They're all unknown soldiers. Or more like a submarine. With pin holes, just plunging downward. Friends with barnacles. Death before ever knowing because of the pressure discrepancy.

I wrote this kind letter to Yoplait Yogurt Manufacturers and Marketers.

"I love all the flavor options Yoplait offers. It is great for weight loss, because almost all my favorite desserts can be substituted with yogurt. Have you considered making entire meals as flavors? Such as pizza, macaroni and cheese, and burrito? Such a consideration would be great because it would greatly increase consumer interest and demand for your product, especially in the war on obesity. Perhaps you can release this idea during the holiday season to promote health and the New Year's resolution of weight loss. "

young ali.

i want to switch out your skittles with m&m's

and watch as you get disappointed

and i'll smile from across the lunchroom

as you think of the possible vile creature to have done this.

it was me! me darling!

but you married the girl who was princess jasmine for halloween

on the playground

by the pile of leaves

yesterday.

and she's got great shoes,

and she'll probably get boobs soon.

so after lunch,

at recess,

i'm going to watch you two on the playground

going down the slide together.

If only I could be the one

with your legs flanking mine

as we tear down the chute!

and then we'd sneak into the tunnel,

where no one can see us,

and you'd grab my hand,

and ask if you could kiss me on the lips.

and i wouldn't respond,

but match your request with a kiss of my own!

i like to see when you get up to recycle your milk carton,

so i can throw away mine as well,

and maybe you'll leave jasmine in all her glory

you know,

she could even get a pile of leaves to marry her.

today, as i saw you get up to toss your milk garbage away,

I stood up and made my way to the bins,

and what fate!

my unfinished peanut butter and jelly betrays me!

that judas!

adorning my white blouse with purple jelly,

like a falling trapeze artist.

and you noticed.

but you laughed.

can you guess which one is me?? think far right, green bow, no friends. L-O-L