while i’m wasting my time squinting at a screen- god’s gift to man, the screen- living vicariously through an image i cast of myself on this screen, i figured i’d throw in some marketing as well. http://www.amoepba.blogspot.com there ya go. about a month ago i also “completed” my first book- or first edition as i refuse to prevent it from changing. it’s called comedia: the rise and fall of hell. should one be interested in ascertaining their own copy, then one could e-mail me here: peachschist@google.com with such a request, and i’ll e-mail you the file.

can love let you in or waste your time? i send

you rhythms: promise, as i think of it, promise,

an order of grasping, that i will never judge

anyone i have ever loved- for

i still love them. they catch me in my acts of

 

angel-wing hopings; telling everything

about sundials- my tea is cold and the sachet

is day-old. so little

it is that i know. happy

 

for the solar system i am. there are

corners in the world and i am among them

 

endless inner-seams seeking balance, suck-

of-light; poor god, give me back

my just-being-a-dream.

20151104_150329

first of all, a selfie, bc i took at least one hundred of them, and this was the only one in which my face shape doesn’t distract me from all of the other elements. plus, i have this farrah flip going on which is pretty cool. and i’m not putting a selfie up in my regular blog because i’d prefer to maintain seeming cool.

i was snapping shots in the backyard [so my neighbors wouldn’t think i’m weird anymore, ergo, would stop watching me in my mind all the time]. earlier that day i had applied to a local strip club. now i’m not a stripper, but i need money. they haven’t had a chance to get back to me yet, but they will. i know i’m not the best at applications but this was a piece of cake: tell us a little about yourself and two pictures.

unfortunately the only pics of myself on my phone that weren’t total gags were of my body. um, ones others have taken. so i hookered out, prepared for when they call/e-mail me back or however we’re supposed to be communicating these days. i wouldn’t know.

20151104_142327
these twenty pounds of soy wax, which are not to be confused with twenty ounces, might have something to do with why i have problems with money.
y2k
did happen.
look
around you.


you look at evidence


as you read this.


generation z


doesn't know anything


before the beginning


of this millennium.




i think of that backstreet boys album


i probably memorized for good


thanks to sharing a room


with my teenybopper sister.

bitch.

i still live in that room.
bitch.

				


	



			
				


			
				


			
				


	


		
					
sentiments:
			


	
	
	

			
hi my name is [things perhaps being other than how they appear and act] this book report is going to be about sentimentality: i find great sentimentality in my own work. that’s all i find sentimentality in. i find my experience with sentimentality capable of becoming something more than sentimentality when i picture my own work of which i find sentimentality in being read. i picture it. i picture everything. this is paradoxical because it’s indirect, but it’s a guerilla tactic.


i have great big plans for myself.


enter a whole new world of my sentimentality which is all decked out with knick-knacks just like yours:


amoepba.blogspot.com


or search for me on google


“peach schist”