...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...

... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ...
A Journal of Sorts




I have no one to tell today
my muses have all gone astray
the darkness scared them all away
 so I go on alone...
 it's not easy alone...
it hurts to be alone
I was not made to do a solo play












there is writing going on, just little shared... there is loving going on, just no one cared... there is caring going on, somehow, somewhere... there is musing going on, just not here... so what's up with you? (I know, you wish you were here to hold me and squeeze me and love me forever and ever and never let me go, but real life is not a cartoon and you are not here so now I hug you and squeeze you and hope you will laugh through the acid tears with me as I mock our desires or lack of trying or the simple rutiness of our current offline lives)... who's that to, we wonder?... don't get paranoid now J

of course it's nothing to smile about, but heck if I'll go down in flaming self-pity or drab despair when I have the option of self-mockery and silly insanities to choose from... you must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, and I have been starving for an all-nighter for so long my mouth is numb (the beautiful irony of these blessed bodies is that pain sensors can only last so long before shorting out, at least for a while)... but not just any lips, mind you (who?)... noooooooooo, far be it for me to close my eyes... libbo must be satisfied... and if you don't know where you find out, you're not looking hard enough and leave yourself out... deal with the agnoy... err, agony...

there must be some way out of here
(where do you think we are?)

how long has this longing gone on?
(how long have you got?)

all I've got are the creative muses inside of me
all the others have gone away
I don't know why everyone has abandoned me
maybe they don't like how I play

everything's a game
give it any name
everything's the same
unless you make it real

everything's so strange
nothing stays the same
everything must change
when you start to feel

maybe you have forgotten
maybe you never knew
maybe you're just to
wrapped up in you
maybe your sign is thirteen
maybe your way is cold
maybe you are too young
maybe you are too old
maybe you've been bought
maybe you've been sold
maybe you're just too caught up in
doing what you are told

maybe you're too weak
maybe you're too strong
maybe you've fallen so far behind
you don't know what's wrong

maybe you've just been alone for too long
maybe you don't understand why you hear this song



STUFF CURRENTLY STIMULATING (OR BORING) THE SENSES
visuals
audios
literata
edibles
gardens
oddends
linkage
          voids of sight and sound
work, local radio
The Girl Who Was Plugged In   by James Tiptree, Jr.
pasta, tomato sauce, cheese
   wantlist
READ DISCLAIMER    ad busters
the mirror project

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