sublingua | |||||
The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
Demon-strative
Get Here Already It's been a long, confusing, disjointed day. I think my brain is fried from watching too many episodes of The Sopranos in a row. And I am now in complete and utter lust with the actor who plays Furio. And also? Where in the hell is my fucking period? That's Just My Fucking Fu I was cleaning off my kitchen counters, so I moved several pieces with Fu's hands and face in them onto the floor. Then I promptly forgot I had put them on the floor, so I walked into one which knocked into the one next to it. Of course, the edge of one of them chipped. And, of course, there is nothing I can do about it and the fucking piece was ruined and I felt like a complete idiot. The chipped piece was one I hadn't written about called What You Put Your Mind To Is What You Put Your Heart To. It was an ambitious piece--not entirely successful, but one of my favorites in the last firing. Of fucking course. Ricky Demon? Richard called about four times yesterday, and I am a coward, because I dodged each and every one of his calls. I can't figure out why I run from this man when he's cute, smart, fun, educated, employed... Or maybe I run from this man because he's cute, smart, fun, educated and employed. There isn't enough there for me to contemplate fixing and so I run. Me? I apparently want someone who is only so-so looks-wise, a drag to be around, dumb, and unemployed. I think there may be some kind of self-sabotage karma at work here.
More lies:
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