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: email@example.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
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.
every time i read something in this vein, i think i’ve almost made it but will never make it completely. no matter how i search my way out of the depths, it’s with ineptitude and i’m destined to be down here.
you look at evidence
as you read this.
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.
Source: updated from my burning phone.