buttertart has been following me around the house worried about how my feelings will exit/manifest. i assure him that i'm not suicidal. but this much...me...is stressing him...too much. he made me wrap myself in a comforter and close the window. i didn't feel the cold. it felt like spring. finally, frustrated, i closed the rattid window. he was relieved. i was...stymied...annoyed...bothered...blocked...emotions have not fully flowed. now i'm back here again with youtube audioslave blaring in my ears trying to catch my own flow...where are my tears?
barkeep!
more fucking white rum...
if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.
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