if only this were life's biggest problem

so impact: kill me, sarah.
killmesarahagain: again with love?
so impact: i wrote that on a scratch pad at work today.
so impact: yes.
killmesarahagain: or do you have another request?
so impact: something like that
killmesarahagain: ooooh lookie.
so impact: so. dilema.
killmesarahagain: yes??
so impact: they have a hello kitty hair dryer at target for "only" twenty dollars. do i splurge or save?

everyone's waiting for their own turn, kind of like show and tell

it scares me to speak my mind It might sound self absorbed I don't say half of what i think I wonder what i'm thinking for I'm smelling dead flowers and listening to the walls again I'm drinking from a leaky faucet and writing with this dried up pen


-c.k. "imaginary friend"

and i laugh but not too hard

killmesarahagain: bllllllllah
so impact: heh.
so impact: what to listen to...
killmesarahagain: or i guess blaaaaaaah would be more appropriate
killmesarahagain: how do you pronounce "lllllllllll"?
so impact: lots of tongue.
killmesarahagain: *damn*
so impact: hah
so impact: am i wrong?
killmesarahagain: no no not at all
so impact: didn't think so.
killmesarahagain: just thinking of the implications
so impact: always think of the implications.

lets go down to the waterfall

why do i always wait this long?

it's eleven pm and i'm unsure of where to call, and whether or not it's "okay" to do so. i told myself all weekend that i'd do it, and here we are again at another ["mind-numbingly depressing and boring"] sunday night and it's like the same place i remember finding myself every sunday night. nothing changes, really. nothing changes in the long run.


so knives out.


i have images in my camera and i have images in my head. some are real and some are not. some may be, someday, but who really knows when. i'm seeing white walls, breezy window, wire hung from eye screws, corner to corner, tiny clothes pins holding up photographs. fashionable little table fan to battle the east county heat, and a mid day nap on the futon with some kind of love. man, woman, machine, hardbound pressed tree pulp. celluloid perfection.

it's so hard to remember to keep thinking the right things every day.