pennies

Let's not sugar coat
melt in the rain

This is posted publicly so I promise not to show the private pictures from my phone. How many different instruments can one play in a week? Well if all the world is a drum kit - then one should not be counting. Where does the paranoia come from? You would hate to doubt your gut. . . what kind of self reliance is that?

Harassed by a West End police officer at the Lee street Marta station . . . for pulling into the 'buses only' slot in the concrete. This dude wanted to take action. Taking the abuse, I drove off into the moonlight. Sounds nice doesn't it? "You saw the sign, acknowledged the sign, and ignored the sign! How would you like to spend time behind walls with your fellow citizens?" PPPfffuuut. LAME. There are multiple ways to enter a Marta station. Does not matter if you know where you are going or not. "I could probably come up with some other things you did wrong." PPPfffuuut. You don't want to feel the heat from my 9. Or 10 for that matter.

We are tight knit around here. Realize with whom you are fu**ing.

Familial stress never tasted so good. I have some how managed to loose rapport with all of my family members, for one reason or another. None of it seems real anymore. We are here around each other because we happened to share caregivers. Or parents.

Who told me "You are not your parents?" I think it was . . . well . . . I am not saying names. Live in the present. Talk about what you will with whomever necessary. Lots of whom's here. Folks like to sleep on whats real . . . including loxers . . . yes loxers.

Loxing Under Cover-

This means that you are in the cipher most def, but unsure about the broadcast. Make sure you don't mix personal relationships too well with business, or the internet; you never know who will be paying attention. Who will slander your identity . . . scorned and embarrassed. I will not post on the wall . . . or leave comments . . . no one is to know about the nature of our beast. The monsters you create should be private . . . you know that once the masses find out about a true loxe that you have or share with another - the nastier the knot will be to untangle in the end. Nothing good lasts forever and nothing bad lasts forever . . . so tell me . . . which is this? The impression crept upon me like an unsuspecting neighbor with children around the same age. Who's ball is it? Who pilfered the sack of sand box toys? We will be sure to bring it up at the neighborhood association meeting. Very strange - very very very strange.

I don't have the urge to reproduce (would it be nice) . . . or complicate myself in the light of another. I don't have to conform to Christianity or social norms, or get married - because the previous generations did. If I did not have the model before hand, would I still want to live a traditional life? Telling me how to conduct myself in the presence of another- or how to react and correspond with god . . . is over the top. Survival is basic. I need ME. I need ME. I hope my "biological clock" is a myth . . . I DO NOT ever want to feel that burden as a woman.

If you ever get confused . . . take a deep breath, 4 in, 4 hold it in, 4 out, 4 hold it out, 4 in . . . it is not what it seems. You will see the confusion fade. This is a personal reminder.

Can't go into much more. Enjoy the warm months and stay away from the oil in the gulf. The Hopi said this would happen.