last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2003-03-06 - 10:01 p.m.: saliva

i'm a little afraid of how easy it is for me to shift my weight from one foot to the the the other. i love you. i love you not. we're just friends. with benefits. he loves me. he loves me not. he loves her. what is love? georgia. france. zimbabwe. mardi gras! mother theresa. fred durst. zen. pina colada. walking. running. flying. falling. swimming.

dissolving thick clouds in skinny skies... raindrops on ice with paper umbrella theories and effervescent bubbles that go go go.... shooting upwards in spirals to burst against an impossible freedom.

ideas grow and die and melt into the dirtyrich microbial soils of my eco-metaphysical mind. i feel i have NO control over them whatsoever.

and... that's ok.


what would you do if you were a tiny snail in a fast-flowing river? would you cling to a rock? the current would make you feel, always, as though you were hanging on for your dear sweet life.

or would you let go? life would be so easy that you'd feel you weren't moving at all. you'd get all the scenery with none of the struggle.

i guess it's too hard to say. the one clinging to the rock will never get slammed into one. that's something.

but if you did get slammed into a rock... would you feel anything anyway?


i guess... i'm glad i'm not a tiny snail in a fast-flowing river.