“I keep fucking putting Toto off the playlist and taking it off + You keeping putting it back on{the playlist.} What’s up with that?

B[[[[[[ Oh yeah, when I don’t get to speak up or/ and choose not to haunt you solely in Kabbalah for communication purposes.’’’’”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Let’s just go for it again.
Spectral, I choose you to spectate
In every facet of my life
That seems unique and like every year I can recall in the past 17 years
For some reason.
The last 3 of 23 sets
Always seem mysterious.
The last 6 the prior,
I think most people think of decades of in 6 + 4.
That’s how I was taught and that’s how I feel about it.

0 years to form a decade style.

I’m living my youth in cancer-cliches.
Everything Orange. [and maroon, navy, green of usually Hunter + Olive, Grey in HeatherHematite + Charcoal, Canary Yellow, Black – many of them. Shadey-Indeed, in my color palette to suit 67/24. Hm. I think so. Good for fall and Kiporum Season, I’d say.] Brown! as well, but red is a brown unless it’s firetruck isn’t it? In fashion-regards, at least. Get cooked. Oh there goes the Tim(e).]] [pd.ed.nt. SBWV:.]

My color palette has shifted.
Ravencawcaw garggarb. [it was formerly. With lots of black. Of course.]
Grey, navy blue, sapphire blue. Onyx blue, cerulean blue,
Celestite blue, angelite blue, and baby blue and mint blue and not teal.
None of that juvenile color palette shadery.
And baby blue always turns to mint
When you throw the satchel that sits under the bust
Into the fucking dirt.

My socks were steaming from the semi-dry long
Time sigh [in orange_white+checkerboard slippie.mules]
{slipped em off and walked in the grass with my long black socks on. in-the-grass.}
When it left my lounge chair and t-shirt wet.
And I hung the concert tee of deaf accord
And surviving [dropping.]crowd-surfers over my hamper flat.
Slim-Fit Tees.
Oh bodybuilders, they made us a trend.
And pre-busted seams is a pure cheat.
And I have cheated at life.
Waking up happy.
Bed with all my wet-folded laundry. [rober over the towels (and woven-weaved throw for ahn eunder) and single favorite t-shirt from 8 years ago to dry it uppppp, ahhh after a shower then a bath after my achilles was shaking from standing up thorning my hair to relearn my part (it’s taken about a month of different drifts and tips, (british too not canadian; going non-chronological now in alzys editor notes [the old directors love this.] (I slept that way and used a grey queen throw for felt over the robe that got cold. Gingham Terrycloth, green no purple. Stupendous. No towels dry: USE THE ROBE. {it’ll do the trick, I swear. Dryer than a towel, every time. Even with the hair, slicccked.} {for pomade bois everywhere, that was.keeping goin shhhh.}>} and therefore, childhood purple-comforter broker out. That’s down there too. Let’s continue! (with the usual quilt, the warrmmmtthh. in lahyyyerss. like an onion. hehe☺))] So warm and it wasn’t even cold last night! Yay laundry fluids drying in a non-toxic way! Weehe.) (I thought this was important, more than hygge, genuinely wanchi in nature o cozy zozy fall asleep and turn on Dexter, my gawd. Season 7, what a love. It’s been 5 days since I started it again, so cozy.) That’s down there too] [Dementia can fun, folks! I forgot to talk about that in the write: ED ITOR NOTES IT> That was a shoutout, dear.]]]…. . . . . . . .
Ahhhhh, old school.
Breath it in.
Small, circular hip hamper laundry basket.
Just took the wettest pair of pajama pants and rubbed out
The softener stains crusted in my ind(nutria[he calls it that for parasitic-toxicity-blown-bullshit. Nutria suck. The Alliance is Strong in this sentiment (lowkey tasty as hell, give it a chance America. Swap your squirrel head stew for nutria. IT’s almost as much of worth a dam as beaver. I’m telling ya now, ya listening? (Thought about how we can lowkey claim Canadian in Culture and I’m laughing about it silently 17 parsecs down in personality for about 4 hours now.))])) style load. [industrial-sized laundry load. {translated with story.}]
Bc it would shit out the washer and kill the dryerswitch [and the good sweats that are a different color than black and a XL instead of a L so they’re baggy and heighted(s). Yellow Cats, indeed in zhen bones huuuhhhghghhhh.] (That one was for Berlin, heck yeah.) (and the (s) for Cologne, vhfanufgbanch indeed bichhes.) (en-style. Not-otherwise. I have one. -The Cat.)
If anyone else tried to wash laundry like that.
So soft – soft indeed.
Soft like my purple twin bed
Comforter from wallymarts and shits
And kid spaced-ou t zoned in my life
And my last puberty of sainthood
And all my previous obligations was
Dog-shit.
A shit-show.
And I find all my happiness all the same.
In simplicities.

That would [B-.] the cheesy answer that looks like a poem that would be on the back
Of a skin-care bottle.
I love it – our greatest customers and most regular in bigass payments/purchases over
300
Always just
Don’t know how to use it.
And their skin looks like shit.
Oh marketing, agent.

I told you after the 7th day the mouthwash
Hairtonic of pumped well-water [homemade leave-in curLeQconditioner. Old-school 50s rations beauty stuff. Heynaoooawwhhh.] from arctic lands I feel from familiarity
Of dragging my own hand through those glacial hot springs.
Gamblers & Coventry indeed, (9favoriteepisodeallusion.o.favanimeImade(the first.))
With the witchcraft spooky
Season has been showing and stowing me.
Won’t watch a movie.
But the shows of season and career-killings breads
And dead i
Densities
Of old stories.

It didn’t smell like stale toothbrush anyway to sum it up.
I used to feel that way about falling in love and trying again.
Just throw it away and get a new one.
I’m still here with you, even if the toothbrush you looked at everyday
Reminded you of me.
And now it’s not the toothbrush
It’s just waking up with me. (or waking me up, really. Even if it’s staged to-be-natural (we woke up together simultaneously) these many decades later. (Monstrousbiscuit indeed of some sort and sausage gravy from another location [sMELL oN YoUR BREATH.]. How dare you not leave my blind-ass a treasurehunt assortment o gift and foody-food gifts. I like breakfast too. Eat out together every day huh. Even more when I don’t cook and won’t buy groceries.)

[I forget about the Blind Treasure-Hunt Thing, as a Blind-Person. Doesn’t exist if I don’t know about it and I really do be minding my business to have worked in Espionage for this long amongst other Agency to International-Accord Co-Workers of some-sort and like… it hurts their feelings when I’m like “Not mine. Don’t know how it got there. Not taking it.” and it’s like everything I wished for for 6 years and I take it after 3 months of staring at it and it’s gone bad deflated and the metal canister of $3 on sale dry-shampoo has been beaten and abused every time I leave that bathroom and don’t pick it up. IT’s the latest incident of hurt feelings in treasure hunt woes. Imagine the wars on snacks and what goes in my mini-fridge. I’ve reorganized the pantry. Modesty Continues in The-Argument. “you’re discriminating against my ethics and blindness.” and the golden gloves of hypothetical-bullets-for-words continues my mannnnnn. oh my. Uncanny this topsy-turvy story has gotten. I hijunked ya. You’ve been rolled and rockless. Eat sugar for candy.😉]

[That’s how you win the stomach of a man.
By cooking ration food.
And lots of baked pasta
The day after
2-3am
Microwave pasta. Cream Sauce.
No cheese.
Make the cheese in the bowl.
Cook it.
In the microwave.
In the sauce.
That’s why ya gotta love a Woman O’ Milian.
Huhuh.😏🥀🐉]

Loosing track of my mind
Every time you put your palm between from shoulder blades
And straighten my posture gently.

[hand at my hip.]

Saw me loosing sight.
In my own.
I see.