A Journal of Sorts
"meet me in the stillness away from all this madness I'll give you a piece of me if you'll give me a moment to let you into the corners of my mind" ~ Nikki Costa ~ scary proposition, huh?... ah, don't let the laughter fool you... it's been a long funk, overalls (so why do I let it go on?)... and crashing (the wonderful world of computer programs) often removes whatever bit of progress I've made (so why do put up with it?)... the answer to all the questions is most likely because I am alone (so why do you remain alone? ha ha ha ha ha)... don't worry, I'm not sure I got the joke either... commsnafs... my snail mail my snail mail has been slow... maybe I'll upgrade to turtle mail once of these days... keep laughing, rabbits... my job is to keep your attention while Elmer sneaks up behind you... now seriously, who just turned around?... eeep... so you're here again, are you?... whatever for?... to read me beg for your attention some more?... to what the opportunity for giving the gift of whatever is on your mind roll by one more time?... you don't want me to know you're out there, huh?... well, I'm accomodating... I don't have any page counters on these individual journal pages just for you so you cant be tracked or noticed... yes, you're out there in the dark, completely anonymous, and I don't even know it... would I tell?... don't go getting paranoid on me now... it's amazing how many people who ramble on in journals or prose or poetry or something on the web have connected through rings and cliques and cliches and whatnots... maybe I should start a whatnot... but then, who'd join?... wanna be in my whatnot?... the criteria for some of these rings and things are amazing... everybody can be a demigod (or is that demidog?)... I mean, I don't quality for most rings cuz of this slang stuff I use... too casual for the literary snobs, as if they know something... and then being graphically challenged, I am not wanted in the beautiful webpeoples circles... I must admit I admire the designs of some sites and would put much more clever design into this one if I had the means today... heck, I'd even spellcheck... but I'll never make it into the literary guild wannabee society I guess (unless, of course, I sell a lot and then they overlook their rules... ahem and all)... my gripe today has nothing to do with being accepted into any club thought... it's the same old loneliness lament, just couched in different colors coming from another angle... nobody shares these spaces offline (and the responses have dried up online too... but then, being away - or at least appearing to be away by not uploading for several months and not responding to emails and still being three months behind as I write this - doesn't help)... oh whine whine whine... what's the difference if nobody's reading or responding? (ah, but just cuz they don't respond, that doesn't mean they're not reading... trying a little guilt trip here, are ya?)... curses, foiled again... where's the joker, where's the thief someone stole the comic relief no spellchecker, literary slop somehow this has got to stop call the grammer cops and then, boys and girls, the mommy and daddy bring the baby home and live happily every after... the next installment of sex ed will be held at the rectory under the big bosses robes... remember to line up quietly and no pushing... the line for the offended starts at the bar next door... |
(and then, with suddenly apparent nudity, our heroine blissfully changes colors and majestically unzips her fly and starts playing her organ with both hands {and a soft flute accompaniment}, asking 'does anybody have any requests?'... at which point, in a bare seven minutes, seventy-two thousand emails abruptly come down from the heavens to squash her dead) |
and remember Santa, cross me off your list this year (must be a message from Layla) I wanna be crossed off Santa's list won't you help me get there? how long has it been since you kissed a naked pixie right here? you know I'll bathe before you get here as long as you let me know you're coming I wish you'd wait until you're with me but remember you can always come again (somewhere there are native tribes still drumming) and I hear you but do you hear me? well time will tell and we'll just see there's not much going on between the ears tonight just a lot of shifting gears in the rhythms of the rhymes I write nobody could call this a song but then they could be wrong some mad musician might see something to grab on to along the way and then maybe we'll get you to come out and play but this was supposed to be serious and here I am getting delerious maybe I'm just trying to get your attention or maybe I'm just getting rid of the closed minds impatience is your loss my friends let me help you close your blinds |
(and then, without warning or fanfare, our hero suddenly changes colors and majestically unzips his dress and starts playing his organ with both hands, asking 'does anybody have any requests?'... at which point the big foot comes down to squash him dead) |
another fine conversation for Mrs Premise and Mrs Conclusion, I must say... but the python is back in it's cage so you can come out now kiddies... and we come to the crux of the matter (anybody have any peroxide?)... I want somebody to protect me from myself... I don't want to be my own conscience all the time, I want to be free, to run amock (amuck too) and scream with the banchees and beetles and all the other beats and bugs rolling like stones here and there and willy-nilly even... I wanna dance naked in the moonlight... I wanna swing from ceiling fans... I wanna throw all the toys up in the air until the toybox is empty and then play with every one... I want somebody who wants to do it all with me... somebody just a little less crazy though, cuz my tribe might have to chase me down and that's when I want the one to stand up and take custody of me (just before they lock the doors of the asylum for good)... this may be too much to ask, so I'll be too much... hello, Mrs Toomuch?... don't worry it's nothing that running a steel rod through the ears won't fix you really are missing all the fun... I hope you stop sitting around vegetating like me and start doing something like responding or going out to see if it's raining or knocking on your neighbor's door to see if it's time to say Happy Birthday or sending money (how'd that get in there?... I don't really want your money, you know... it's your milk chocolate I'm after)... shout out! what just a minute, this was supposed to be confession time here in the corners of my mind... ok, let's see what we can find... he's something you might not know (or want to know) about me... the toughest thing about being a Vegan was giving up chocolate milk... I kept finding myself staring at large breasted women and wondering how chocolate breast milk would taste... but then, I'm not really attracted to large breated women, so I didn't ask... the fact remains that I am lonely (no wonder, huh?)... with all this silliness, I amuse and entertain, but still go home alone... everybody laughs and follow him around (especially the kids and some strange animals), but nobody wants to go home with the clown, you know?... what do you know?... do you amuse and entertain?... have you been the clown?... maybe... you don't say... did you ever hear the one about... but then, there's so much more than meets the eye or heart |
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