CHEESE/LIFE.

Language, speak, jump, leap, “I just want to say cunt”.

Expertations:

She was a professor, from Rome
Whom all of the poets took home.
They’d knock down the door-
expecting for sure,
but left with books and a poem.

Boiled eggs.
Diet. Sleep. Yoga.
Irony. Kissing strangers.
Image image. Imagine.

Months and memories.

you’re so full on.
Seriously.
Its not my intention play love games with you.
I’m alone at the moment because its best for me.

I like that we have been close in the past and that we can be honest with one another but I don’t think our lives should intersect in that way.
We’re at completely different points and you’re there for a reason.
You’re overthinking everything again, a lot like me.
Don’t do it if you can help it.
Don’t come back;
it sucks and I am unwilling,
I am selfish.

Carbon Kicks
Walled spaces
Chucking sucks
Holding pieces.
Dirty tricks
Holding aces
Govern fucks
Apple District.
Fairness friend
Never end.

I explained to the guys. -scared I was-
As we drove back. -you drive me up the wall-
that coming away from your dinner party -I am shivering-
of bright, brilliant and beautiful people. -so much choice of freedom’s option-
It had me feeling that I was the most unwholesome of the lot.
Your group is of a very fine and refined league of which I appreciated and enjoyed in company and conviviality to the absolute. Thankyou again. -If that’s how its spelt-
To die for, the eternal dessert. Pie of time. Ends meet. -Shuddering-

Smell. Sick and sweet fragrance.

A jaunty day
A silent night
Jingles sway
Bell’s delight.
This holy morn-
Week ended whiles.
Feeling all forlorn,
Drifting people’s piles.
The collective noun’s
Gaggles of clowns.

A Matilda of sheep. – Thankyou Rowan.

Run run run. Sun sun sun.
Hon hon… honey.
Money money money.
2020. 2020. 2020.

I wore a pineapple t-shit out to speak.
Dinner was done and I returned home to mashed potato.
ending on sweets in something I heard once.
Sounded sophisticated. So I took tea with honey.
Calming, soothing, chamomile.
I war with the image.
Pineapples. An impossibility of them.
The entire situation. I am the plant in all of this.
A prick. wearing my lost loves like armour.
And the cheat. The cheat that calls my name –
kisses at me with smiling eyes.
Whored thoughts. Sore knees.
Poor morals and a captive audience.
I roll and lay and wish and hide.
My eyes, my truth. Beacons,
Lighthouses that flash past their target.
Brief as anything in this pimple popped life.

And I share. You broke my heart.
I was horrible. “Duncan this, Duncan that”.
Talk of your self. Talk of your own experience.
Stringing me out to dry.
The ineviability of the horrible conversation.
Ultimatums and freedom.
I just wanted company, closeness.
Not this, not this.

I met a publisher tonight. My tired mind.
The games we play. Always-
The lost love and shared time.
Glass can be mended.
Shattered I am INDEED.
Tired. Though not of games.
“Tramborine” and 10 things I hate about you.
She spoke to me of MONA.
She worked for BLACK INC.

The computer crashed I thought I lost it all…
All of that.
The rush of sharing it all, getting it all down.
The hollowness of words.
The lips, the soft shirt.
The buttons. Novelty buttons.
Old times and new and the promises.
The restriction we put on ourselves.
We are so careful. So fucking careful.
And I break it.
It’s all suppressed. And i’m not happy. Just busted up.
Eyes sagging, burping carrot slaw.
Slowly, garlic and the gum and the closeness overwhelms.
Whelms. Europe.
I need to run away.
Time to cool, to rest relax.

All this writing and the experience of dinner.
Dessert.
Gravity.
Weight.
Halves.
Languages.
Underpants.

Table and Cup.
Vonnegut.

Everything is temporary!
Tattoos (there’s a joke here)
My body aches.
Tears and the fear of your loneliness.
This privileged-
Spelling. And the spelt in the crust.
How do you spell that?
and how I felt after you left?

It all coming crashing down around me.
Edinburgh, the milk of trades.
This has tuned to nonsense. But we’ll roll on.
I don’t know what to do.
And the temptation is there. Biblical, annanas.
It’s who you know and the black shoes of ASOS.
Conversations around the campfire of walking over hot ashes.

Flighty home-alone.
Women. Terrify.limit
I myself Hiding.

And thats not enough. So vauge,
barely phased.
How the process works.
You’re smell is intoxicating.
I feel like i’m going to pass out.
Coming close to kissing you.
And the ability to forgive.
Do people ever change?

I know.
I knew.
You cheat and cheat.
And I check.
Check out.
Broken hearted again.
Friends.
So many smart, brilliant friends.
But alone I lay.
Grounded, lost in the barn.
hay and grass and bleeding water.
Neat as pins. And there are no cushions.
I hate you I hate you I hate you.
Pins insert into my temples.
and my blood remembers.
“parcels” are my gift.
You are my girl.

Beers in forklifts.
Time passing.
Relevance lost.
Time to think.
Intellectualized love.
Foils and flummoxing wants.
Touch and wrinkled nose.
an uppercut to you,
to your homestead.

People wouldn’t listen to me half as much if I was ugly.
and that terrifies me.

TIM TIM TIM!

Mind your own. Look and look after. I am a socialite- for better or for worse. Standing around. Anxiously plugging the silence. Lugging, tugging, flight home, shrugging live like government. 

Meaning other thins lost in theme. The me. The I. 

Define: Altruism Socialite

“When people ask you a question what do you say” generally. Scripts, acknowledgement, special, ordinary, change. Formula and magics control over people that are quiet. Not my intention. Not mine! I need to rest, to layup lay down, sleep, plan study and organise. 

“Administrivia” – high fail rate.

Numbs the mind.

Find passion – motivate self.

Fixate and learn concepts.

No detail. Next week we’ll get into theoretical stuff.

The function of stupid.

Doctrine of precedent.

Nod nod nod.
Not 

How are you not, today.

I said not! 

Song: Need it . Band: half moon run. 19th of July 17:02

Saying and true meaning link arms. While for the second languages it’s a departure of accuracy, real-mess-ness, was, is, wrong, loss, suppression, desire to be in you. Like private property. The only true occupation is sex. Auctioned off self. Surrender yourself. Lust, carnal and warm. Navels rub. A bounce and cold heels touch the sides of mine. My legs flex as we squirm and I sit up. Impressed, grinning unnaturally. Smiling for the drug of it all. It’s all on the table. Feet cold but not for saying, warming hearts and a passion. Kiss me – need.

Kiss me – want. 2. Side. Standing, infectious smi

Time scrapes at me. The weekends choices bubble under my skin and fold like elastic left

Out in the rain.

My fear of playing musical instruments- the sacrifice and sadness of blowing. 

The silence and fear and convention of caring. More than just the wind. 

Sharing and swallowing.

You are a guy, and I am a girl. 

The honesty of it all. Showered and shaved. To lip born of pimpled picked pain. groups yearning is stifled. 

Rocks through maidens Windows showers shards of broken glass. Crushed between pestle and

Mortar heart. Running running, blubbering boulders could coil. Colliding at my chin. Falling the my chest. Cold shivers and pins cut from my eyes and jam in my nose. My empty head and heavy heart race with the loss of human reasonableness. Farted fluster. Flushing gushing graces of my own immoral suit. Armoured sentimentalities. Flaking down. Shameless. Silent. Worried and unlearning. The best version of myself, and I’m still not right. 

Alight. White paper. Without being weighted down, fearful. Nonsense.

I just want you to be with. 

I haven’t got time for your fear, worry or shame. They are immaterialism – devoid and lacking. My confidence is born of practice. Time elopes me. Slithering and slanting. This hell of earthquakes makes hills of dimples and children of the banal. 

Riots strike at the cement foundations and I fall. Skull crushingx

Watched Chocolat with J. Race. Sexual preference. Money. Acting.

Saying: tinkers cuss

Resting on your laurels

Sled, slid.

Put your best foot forward in the dark.

– a light in the darkness.

– two left feet. Right. I wrote it. But I left one left at home.

– you ain’t seen bad boys two?

we never have enough time.
To talk, to wait, to watch, to listen, to think or write.
I hope you are well my love;
So rich.
So pretty.