no white flag above my door

why is it the higher road tends to make my head hurt, my eyes bleed salt and my stomach turn?
all i want, all i really truly want is something so small that most people drive by without noticing. let the baby have her bottle and then leave me be.

why do people "sort of" want things in their lives but only selections or portions?
even with people.
scratch that, reverse it, especially with people.
it makes me want to wear a blindfold sometimes.
like a person is a pizza that you can remove things you don't want or add extra of what you do.
one thing i learned slinging pie--you're going to be pleasantly surprised (moreso than unpleasantly surprised) by occasionally trusting in somebody else's idea of perfection, even just a taste.

sometimes things move so fast all i can feel is my hands tugging til it's the just the fingertips clinging then nothing.

im no scientist, i cant fix people.
i can barely live up to the hype of just being me.
why cant being ever be enough?
all that has passed is still there, crammed into the little box in my head that i only open when i'm too high to feel the burning flames that erupt whenever i risk a peek in.
some days its a single teardrop, others its a tidal triste.
emotional flash flood and the current is breathtakingly beautiful even as i
gurgle down to the sediment, then kicked back up again.

i turned down the job offer.
it's just not me.

cherry lips (go baby go)

aw, we're right behind you.

in cant wait news jr miss is excited about our annual midnight screening coming up. but i am almost as stoked to have true blood back on the tube as well as weeds coming up and supernatural.

now as to the writing....

dizzy bitch (vertigo away)

the irony isn't lost on me, and i'm learning to take my joy in tiny little increments, doled out at fate's whim. but when the world stops spinning long enough for me to take a minute, fuck yeah i'll take it and love all sixty seconds. including finding a long lost trinket, a little pendant that had long since fallen off it's leather cord. the prodigal pistons return!

stayed indoors since the light was a bother and enlisted the aid of my firstborn and have determined that the good ole futon is the best possible alternative to lying down (which is like being in one of those astronaut gyroscope things-ie SUCKS) -its literally impossible to sleep that way.
especially when combined with a rotating 6 hour regimen of otc sleeping pills.

so i'm testing that out with a little mindless blogging until the meds kick in and some jango chill tunes, courtesy of twtb radio. been feeling kinda nostalgic lately when i hear certain music so it may be time for yet another station.

it's a sensation not unlike my high school shenanigans with cough syrup lol but that was never my idea. peer pressure peer pressure.

peeer pressure.

here's crossing fingers and toes for a equillibric tuesday wake-up call.
and now since i can't really stare at the pc too long, i am going to sleep with the postman.