More Thoughts Expanded

Re: Death

What would I do if somebody I really knew, or whose art I cared about even more died? If, say, my mom or dad died. I've never really felt death. My grandma died in 2001, but she was in Arizona and I never really saw her anyways. It's so abstract to me. Hell, I'm not even afraid of death. The idea of me not waking up, or getting into a car accident doesn't bother me in the least. But if someone close to me died. I don't know. It's strange to imagine, because I can't put it there really.


Re: Nothing

I've been more conscious of not being sincere this week. I mean, I've probably been as sarcastic or cynical as usual, but I've been more aware of it. I dream a lot. I kinda want to start taking notes on my dreams. They tend to be pretty odd. And maybe reveal a lot about me? I'm not sure.

Hands are great. They do so much. Flex bend touch. It's really magical. Watch them move, one finger, then another, and another. Prodding, poking, extending.



Girl you have these eyes so brown and gentle, warm crisp /Sweet pudding that makes me smile and taste/All that cinnamon in the air.
Girl you got these cheeks so red and soft but just that perfect shape/Apple blossoms in a fall so graceful/Filled with fiddles and candy.
Girl you got this thing this thing this thing and I don't know who you are and who am I and who are you to be in my life this way.