no way, yahweh!

want. need.

want! need!

want? need?

jesus?

no.

one american christmas two thousand five

scores stomping overhead, singing the praises of nascar,
and jerry lee lewis,
shouting for attention,
loudly laughing.

i am underneath, wearing what i wore yesterday,
my hair in all directions,
wanting no attention,
silently crying.

what a mess.

old man, also bicyclist invasion

there is an old man here. he is the oldest. he has a great old man suit on. he is sleeping on the couch. he looks dead. we are in public. everyone stares as they walk by. i am sad.

a pack of bicyclists just came in. they are the bicyclistest. they have terrible bicyclist gear on. they are not sleeping. if i look like that ever in the future, i hope i also look dead as well. we are in public. everyone stares as they walk by. i am sad.

Blogger, the Christmas gift one gives oneself

I got bored of my myspace blog. This one looks nicer. And with such a pretentious title, one could expect some ramblings about Nietzsche or Zoroastrianism. Yay!

One could also be wrong.