Where's the money when I hit the floor? Trace the image in the pancake batter of breakfast cereal for two dimes and a hot cup 'a joe. What does it all mean?
I spent the last several hours cleaning the underside of my kitchen cabinets with meticulous and mindnumbing intensity, and without the expected help of speed, meth, or anything except my own mania. Who does this kind of shit? Really, if yr out there I would love to know. Maybe not you exactly, but about you. There's never been a time in my life when I didn't crave the kind of order and certainty that this world gaurantees that you'll never get. I remember being a small child. Wow did that suck! I'm losing myself down a k-hole right now. You'll have to forgive me or curse me to the dimlit of eternity. I know voodoo too.
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