The weight of ideas

My girls sit on each arm of my couch, grooming. Benevolence. They could not be more opposite. Physically, temperamentally, even how we interact and the ways they tell me what they need or want. You’re never alone if you have pets.

I’ve let the nail on my left thumb grow. It weighs an outrageous amount. Subject to subtle surges of gravity. I can’t wait to clip it but I understand exactly why I’ve let it go this long. It offends me. I hate it. I can’t help it. My arm tingles with the anticipation of eliminating it. Sometimes at night, the thumb aches from it’s weight.

I must do it now. Right now. I loathe it. The need for relief from the mass I’ve allowed for has reached past solvency. One compulsion usurps another.

Giant, pastel green grasshoppers suddenly suffer mass abdominal explosions, yielding orange flavored Tick Tacks as soft and sticky shrapnel. Barely any sound.

I’ve done it. I’m lighter. Didn’t wait until I got outside. Sheared it off over the kitchen sink with giant steel toe incisors. Not sure the nail is short enough but I’m relieved. It was a wet fish I stuffed into my pants on purpose. Ocular organs of grasshoppers crisping and popping underneath my eye teeth. Ants and mosquitos mingle in my gullet sharing heartburn. They dance in my colon and I shit like a goose.

I need a shower.

Cindy Stepford McCain is creepy. She’s powered by yellowcake uranium. Just look at her eyes. She trips the lights fantastic with Lucifer hisownself.

The roof of my mouth bothers me. I could feel that nail in my mouth and nose. It made the tops of my feet itch; I almost wore a hole in one last night.

I lean back to discover The Gurry right next to me. She is flawless and wise. I rub her head just how she likes. If I’m afforded an afterlife she will be there. I’m hoping she’ll finally talk to me, I want to ask her about her moods and if she really was watching TV all those times. Beddy will tell me really bad jokes about latin homosexuals. The Bean will moderate while wearing those half glasses. Can’t wait to see her.

Men and women are so different it’s often tragic.

I wonder how far I could leave life behind while still being able to stay connected. I ask myself this question and realize I’m halfway there.

I just need cable, high speed internet and groceries conveniently accessible, all from a lower than alpine region. The side of a not too steep mountain. Ideally, a fresh source of water within a walkable distance. A well. A generator. Some solar panels. Plenty of tools. Morphine. Lots of beans and pickled vegetables.

Sometimes, I understand the need to surrender to certain things to be at peace.

I should go to bed but my dreams will have their way with me.

A fix of apathy is needed. It’s usually pretty easy to come by. Not today.

I know why I’m in this mood but I’m not gonna tell you about it. Nothing I can’t solve, get over or get through.

Bitches can’t hold they smoke, that’s what it is.

“I tell them there’s no hurry, I’m just sitting here doing time.
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round.
I really love to watch them roll.
No longer riding on the marry-go-round.
I just had to let it go.
I just had to let it go.
I just had to let it goooooo.” -John Lennon

A chihuahua has dominated the box office for two weekends and that Russian rocket is way cooler than our Saturn Five. Russian rockets are way cooler and more sinister than American rockets.

Fall is here, it’s my favorite season. Candles, fireplaces and deciduous trees in the San Fernando Valley.

Clarity is a commodity in every grand prize. At least it should be.

I think I need to walk it back a little.

Drinks for my friends.

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