Chameleon heartbreker.
North peace feast.
Shower, run, stomach, guitar. Get air.
Smoke lady smoke. Such a stare.
Whiteness, non/white.
Race. Sport, Competition.
first, last. Winners losers.
power privileged
sent home early.

She only read female authors.
Not for the mystery of men.
Because she was a feminist.
She wanted to feel, to know, to hear, see women.
Around her, in her mind. Dire influence.
Limiting the shelves.
Hilariously limited suddenly. Only ideas, views, perspectives of women.
almost manageable.
Imagine, what an easy break.

And then she said to me something vast;
when I asked where I came from.

“The man ‘gives’ his penis to the woman”.
Imagine the notion I got.
And what does the woman do with it?
She probably fucks that guy…
He just gives it up?!
I suppose so..
And she’s experienced with that thing? She knows how to wield it?

What a lunatic.
Cheers and cheeks in the light of the night.

I wonder if that girl is seeing some guy.
And my access is gone. But i’ll see her and have the level head to ask.
That’d be real nice.
Old fashioned.

The inexperience of it all.
The idea of running, running and getting swollen hands.
And I thought, if you run, your hands are cold right.
But if you relax and get warm, if you panic and stress, they will stay cold.
But you register cold because your brain is warm.
When your brain gets cold, then we’ll see real problems.
But for now, your hands are cold, relax. Let your heart swell,
pump. relax.
Only when your mind is numb and cold do you have to worry,, but then it’ll be too late. Too soon, not enough time.
I’ll run away in August. The world is small, and I will have options by then. I’d like to help but its making me depressed.
I’ll have to run, run and run and run.
I worked a little and I lost a lot.
French with a waster, uninspiring.
No chance.
I’ll go somewhere else. That i’d like to go, to go and visit.
Travel the world. Start ticking countries.

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