Yuri-Lawliet

I once had this thought. This thought that I dug a special little hole for - and I buried it so far under the earth that I could not even remember what it looked like after a while. Because I thought that I had a sense of the order back then. Then one night - some catastrophe, some earthquake, shook up my world to its' deepest roots. And although I flew as high as can be imagined, skimming the atmosphere with a sense of accomplishment, my eyes were fixated on the earth. Where that thought, Hurled itself in my face, so obvious... And now this thought taunts me from its' resting place. Mocks my keening as I stand frozen in fear of t

I am taking my break and going down to Powell's I am moving my break with my legs and a streetcar down to the bookstore from the fifth floor. My stomach has only had a pear today and I look like a baseball coach. I see all the people the maddening people and I want to laugh aloud for the enigmatic joy in their overtalkative Craziness their clog and sock-wearing Laziness their mumbling cigarette smoking cart pushing faded Wildness. their too red lip-smacking Haziness - At least the sun is with me.

She could not get to sleep, It was unthinkable. She never had been able to rest on Christmas eve. Although now as an adult it was for very different reasons. She rolled over anxiously, the thoughts of what she should do about her situation spinning her constantly awake. But the medication began to work its heavy-handed magic and she found herself inevitably Asleep. It was that dream again: I am in a very brightly lit place, and I am squinting, my eyes have been watering and my face is kind of sticky. I can feel heavy things on my back, and I appear to be hanging from them like a rotten mango on a tree. It is very cold. I look down and all

Withering to pay the bills Begging slowly your eyes Touching eerily your skin Slipping you forever to the "away" Like some scrupled bill Laid under some doormat To be trod upon by some... ...one. Or some five. Sometimes taking it to the ties Means it more to see, and such to hear. I have you back now my red leather demon bag. With all of your guts for me to inventory And sigh as I apply My forever-missed chap. stick. And wonder which gas I left on in which house. Which turn I didn't dizzy myself in. Which hour I was left unaccounted for. In that apparent room. To sleep to the television bouncing it's blue time up and aro

Fair is a wonder to behold Whether you are young or old Fair is sweaty sunscreen Deet Citronello surprisingly it is not patchoulli It is full of beautiful people And ugly people who are beautiful anyways And people who are so beautiful that they probably aren't people and are actually wood nymphs Fair is about being dirty, sweaty, hot, and itchy and not giving a flying fuck becauase it's FAIR Fair is not fair, but it is joy anyways Fair is sitting in fields until it gets light out and stumbling back to your tiny tent to get sober again. Fair is taking three minute showers Fair is taking twice as long to get anything done because

She walked down the thin aisle, the perfect rows of books making a canyon which she pushed her cart along. She could feel her pupils dilate as she absorbed the Dusty contentment of the volumes, but her eyes were drawn back down to the paper in her hand. SE 168. 58s SE 168. 58s SE 168. 58s SE 168. 58s SE 168. 58s ... SE 168..... Got it! The book was on the top shelf so she jumped and grasped it's binding, feeling the barely-touched material and checking the journal number and article title. She heard vague footsteps somewhere off in the distance, but paid them no mind. This was her home, her element, there was never anything to fear