If Movie Posters Told The Truth
so, none of you will ever have to have a baby because i already made the best one. you’re welcome.
and yes. he is a boy who has a pink blankie. boys who have pink blankies with roses on them are more awesome than ones with blue ones with trucks and baseballs and shit.
a maybe song, or maybe just word vomit
Rosie cheeked, the dying light
Has dipped his head down for the night
All ransomed, heavy lidded eyes
Worth every heartbreak, guise and lies
I pack my thoughts and tie them down
Sew them in his muss-curled crown
The face, a hidden reprimand
My lungs all folded in his hand
My beak is crushed, a harnessed thing
and bones are broken in my wing
I beat the heart, the someday death
And kiss the hand that holds my breath
it’s been a long time since you’ve seen my face on the internets hasn’t it? and the biggest change? this nasty mop of hair. see the thing about not cutting your hair for a long time is that the idea of cutting it becomes freaky. for no good reason.
because in reality i’m thinking this whole mess of stuff that is growing out of my head needs to go. The idea of short hair seems fantastically freeing. but then i wonder if that wold be some terrible mistake. and then i wonder why on earth i give a damn, because after all, it’s just hair, isn’t it? and spending this much time thinking/writing about hair seems like a ridiculous waste of time.
and i just wish somebody would be honest enough with me to say, please cut that shit off or don’t cut it. because i’m sick as can be of hearing i should do what i want (becaue apparently i have no idea what i want).
this is lame, i know. then again, i’m lame and that’s one thing that isn’t likely to change
Conversations with the landlord
Me (answering the phone despite it being too late to answer the phone): uh, hello?
Landlord: yeah, uh, it’s Peter. I heard that the shower had to be adjusted but they, uh, had to wait for it to dry.
Me: yeah, something like that (nothing like that bit whatevs)
Landlord: and also, I figured that hans’ heater is approximately 12volt and that squared times the square root of blah blah blah divided by Pi and in conjunction with the 5 days at bippledebab should come out to about $22 dollars so you can discount that from the rent if you really need to
Me: what? (my brain is literally hurting at this point.
Landlord: yeah, and while were on the subject, I get your rent one to two days late every month
Me: but I make an automatic transfer on or before the first and it transfers immediately
Landlord: well, I get it late
Me: o-k. I guess I’ll have to transfer it earlier
Landlord: not a big deal
Me: (thinking, if it’s not a big deal why did you say it) ok
Landlord: ok
Me: ok, sigh
Landlord: ok. Merry Christmas
Me: yeah, you too (meanwhile, the conversation is becoming exceedingly awkward and I want to hang up)
Landlord: we are going out of town Tuesday
Me: ok
Landlord: merry Christmas
Me: (oh dear god, please hang up) you too (AGAIN)
Landlord: bye
Me: ggggggaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!
I never want to have to ever talk with him again. I think he just called again; I did not answer.
