Well today was like a pincushion fart pillow from cancer town.
Not quite hell as I have had worse days just not so many of them in a row that as soon as you step off the short bus it hits you making you take your seat again time for another ride that becomes endless weeks and turn to months
The mountains scream of renewal but the air still smells of winter standing outside I sip from a tired cup of coffee waiting for a lazy sun to arrive I have resigned myself to residing within this tiny hamlet for the sake of others but I feel like a third baseman in the court of Camelot waiting for the inning to change for here the seventh inning stretch is a way of life & the game just drags on like that visit to grandmas the one who smells of mothballs & ben-gay & all of her food...
Hey,...HEY!!!!.....finally I had had enough...stop calling me hey god-damn it, I am straw...and as a member of straw we are sick n tired of being mistaken for hey......not that we are bigots or anything....just saying we are straw....fucking get it right.
How fragile we humans are one minute you can be in the zone with life and in an instant an avalanche can obliterate you and if it were not for the fear of death many of us would not survive I however do not fear death I just prefer life
with the oppression of sin cast upon her she reached out to grasp the robe of god to have something to hold onto and found nothing her faith thin and frail as parchment aged by the pyre her only light snuffed by the wax she finds a familiar [dis]comfort in the darkness