ive still got flowers in my hair

he-said she-said heresay spreads like cancer and we can't evolve fast enough.
we groove and drink and fall all over each other, heartbeats and heartbreaks clicking and whirring

so much human noise.

Just one more shot
Last bong rip i swear
Oh yeah...nyquil

[they ALL do the trick]

this city is in such a fog

L--- in a cold climate

I knew a boy who did not dream for six years. He would sleep, roll around a bit, and wake up like a robot. Knowing how to turn his heart off & on like the central heating system, he suffered long winters of stiff joints and nervous, chattering smalltalk.

But even robots get lonely.

SPARK IT UP!
FULL BLAST!
ALL AT ONCE!



...he blew a fuse.

here comes another indifferent season.

Brandy Alexander

Today I realized I treat men like handbags:

Preferring the $4 trendy, broken, vintage, barely lasting the two weeks it takes me to find another types...........when, perhaps, an expensive investment in some quality & longlasting designer might improve my poisoned lovelife.

my Mary Dee counters with, "but there's more adventure in a short-lived vintage"--
To which I reply [in my head], "seen one vintage, seen em all"

Sure.
The suades & crushed velvets & intricate beading look great under street lamps and neon signs, but waking up with such extravagance just feels silly.

Sometimes all you really need is morning breath, dirty hair, swollen lips and ugly underwear.

Wednesdays at the Airliner

check your ego at the door and get down n dirty with the trip-hop movement, Man. wear your minidress & platform shoes but don't comb your hair. bounce and swing and grind and jump to the beat Mothafucka! the more sweat the better. makeout with your Friends. get in each Other's personal space. spend too much money on watered down drinks and laugh about it. go out on a school night & kick it with your Homies. don't come home til your feet bleed or you're out of cigarettes.
Just be young.
Be young.
Be.