It used to be full of stars, but now I'm full of scars.
Somewhere near The world with a candle inside I got lost in:
Fuckin' Jesus told me to betray the conspiracy The Serial Killer Jailbait Airline Lotto Stolen moments of infinite justice laughing across the arboretum Here is Today! Here is Morning! Hello Hello Hello Here I Am! Out of Season Slaughterhouse Five So much nothing Stealing parts of my heart with your glances When I'm long dead, the bee will win January 19, 2002 World Turtle Shut up the 0th dimension Where were you that Saturday when it rained? she does not know how much I need this E2 Prose Writers Group Why I torched the crack house Like mother, like daughter Mother and I Would Like to Know The girl who climbs iron stairs to the heavens Dream Log: November 21, 2001 Lying next to someone at night A small space under the stairs How soft your fields so green can whisper tales of gore A classic Zen taleThings that could beHere are some true pieces for you, anonymous, handsome. To fall in love we must abandon ourselves to nature Catch my tumbling thoughts and place them next to a spoon Thoughts for Oliver on His Death Hidden in a violently beautiful, whispered thought Sacred ground a long way from nowhere Rhapsody in Red An Elevated Train Named Desire Jar Jar 3:16 She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane. This is the only love Angel of death, fallen Kiss me, you are beautiful. These are truly the last days. "Shut up," he explained Jar Jar Binks As strangers they could speak, and it lifted the rain Hello broken thing, may I sketch your smash pattern? Just another moment lost in eternity An ocean away and here he was, seeping into her spindly arms against a sea of light Do not be surprised, I have always been your canvas, Argenis. You know it is going to be a strange day when you wake up dead I never learned to dance This music crept by me upon the waters Halcyon+on+onA silence that escapes, how it plagues my wandering thought These and many other thoughts fill my mind while I lie recovering There are a couple of people in a cafe with only glass between them. And something important is happening Cafe Concerto Misery waits in vague hotels to be evicted Warm sun rising over a cold black ocean. You are a soft wind. Write it. Tear it up. Even things as amazing as stars burn out Tiny sections of time which curl into memories a total loss of control over her life Every Tuesday, I dress as a 46-year old woman and waitress at a diner on route 27. This is the meaning of life. You love these machines. These machines are dead: a love story. I like this. It's pretty. Star Wars Episode 1.1: The Phantom Edit Perfections like you This one is mine don't care I may dream in technicolor, but I trip the fuck out in old-school black and white short story Your Ending Here Get your mind out of the gutter We can meet her for you wholesale: a dreaming girl's singularity The Dangers of Dating Smokers Hunting Season It's a sin this not being ready, this not being up to it It was one of the worst things I have ever done Looking forward to the back of my mind It was just a crush Ben Harper Advil Prophecy Ground zero No one has died I glimpse the elephant Close your eyes, I will help you pray It could be the last time you see me alive Nathan, This Is Unacceptable Death of a factory Leaving the Warlock It will be a hot day and these two ice cubes. We will melt, become one. What does a candle's flame look like when it burns in space? The knight at the nexus of memory Elohim The broken shadow dances on the wall Chapstick answer: dropping glasses Over the Hills and Far Away piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning My hands, a backrub, a cup of tea, my shoulder, my lips, my silence My heart is a still and my blood is whiskey. Take a shot of me beneath the moon. I'm just so tired of waking up all alone Lifetimes are catching up with me I am sorry but when you were talking I was admiring the shape of your lips and evaluating their kissability We are all starstuff, billion year-old carbon; got to get ourselves back into The Garden Left with his secrets, his picture and silence Why the willow weeps