13:54 “Cubert” by System of a Down
I write my titles, before I write my own stories nor pieces this time around.
I’m past another 200 that every Writer fears, out of some sort of turbulent dimension in which the calling to “Long-Format” beckons yet again, and I think I’ve become uninspired to recollect that I wrote “a season” 205 and Impressions of a Song at 205, as I choose to say
Yes!
No shadow-format noted to know , I need to chill.
And like some simulcast I’m back in Times New Roman, roamin’ on the quakes of downs to figure out what I want to write again.. A season is about 25 season and I made in 4 months and 9 days longitude, I beat my original by a mere 2 days and have to come to the point, that I’ve accepted I’ve achieved my dream of becoming a writer with more than a year left to collect on my chalice I once owned but never obtained through monetary-definition.. My relationships have become awe-inspiring as I know they are much bolder, fear-whackened, defeated and simultaneously stimulated like the metronome long-press of an H/Vac unit, that someone does not call mine and I am the silent owner of the house that can’t evict my placed family due to squatter’s rights and I’ve treated myself as the squatter my whole life waiting for a reason to go pick and chase whatever it is that can’t be obtained through any means nor necessary action in which it is to “stay still” or break-the-broken spirit you came from. In that —there’s a lot of piece. Reggaeton blasting through my headphones of the “El Alfa” don’t know the owner of Alfa Romeo and the hardship it is to know they only ship to Miami and I never want to spend a day in Florida unless it’s North or in the Everglades-by-theKey so they know my key-of-rights are known as a Psy.D and that’s why I don’t list the big-d nor other bacteria test results as I’ve come to known “My education is a crock of shit unless someone else says I’m mature about it, when I mention shit to blushful and boastful coos, I’m really just wondering why my cup of tea went cold when I was drinking coffee tomorrow.”
And that’s all folks. You got comedy out of me in a saying. Proverbs. Challah. Crazy 8’s.
What all could there really be for a K.iD like me.
Break out the water, the piss-stream awaits after-the-show.
Salud & Salations ❤ [14:00 otp, Spit it out’ by Slipknot}13:57 6&aw
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