More Talk

There's nothing like getting cigarette ash in your eyes. I just got a little bit of pot ash, haha,...potash, okay, anyway, in my eye. My left eye. So now my left eye is red and my right eye is droopy with mollusk poisoning.

My knee hurts like HELL. I am wearing very good sneakers, and my knee feels really bad. I think I have to go to the doctor no matter what. Shoot. I am hoping I didn't blister my cartilage again, or tear something up with the pins inside.

I just pulled out laundry from the washer and dryer. I don't know how I managed to be a personal assistant so long. I have ruined the bedclothes. They were green. Solid green. I tried to use a little bleach and threw in a blue towel for good measure, and now they're mottled camo green with a little blue thrown in for good measure.

I looked around at the walls and the first thing I thought was, "this side needs a mural." I'm in a painting mood. If I had my oils, I would.

But I don't. The lilies smell really good in here though. It smells like lilies and pot. And me. And I'm trying to fumigate odors of the stinky beast who is shacking up elsewhere and putting on weight (I might add). I think she found her way to his heart, through his stomach. Not that he couldn't stand to put on weight. He was looking so thin. But still, I think she's fattening him up for her oven.

That sounds wrong, somehow.

Well let me think. I guess I could be very, very, brave and try to just let all inhibition loose and whatever crazy thing comes to mind...after a moment of meditation...Okay, I'll try it.

So distracting though, to try to write while listening to "Arms of An Angel" by Sarah Mclaughlin. I've been trying to ignore it all day, and it's kept coming to mind. I tried and tried, and now, I've given in. I am listening to it. And now, won't be able to concentrate on anything else. I'll still try. I think this song must have a very special message for someone and I am just feeling it. I think I sometimes pick up on things about people, or from people. I've had others tell me so! so it must be so! and I do sometimes get a "feeling" about things.

"So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn, there's vultures and thieves at your back

it's easier to believe...in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness, that brings me to my knees...

In the arms of the angel, fly away from here, from this stark cold hotel room, and the endlessness that fear
you pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort here/you're in the arms of your angel, may you find some comfort here