Hey, How’s It Goin?
On the longest day of the year the sun drowns beneath the ocean but her light keeps giving and giving over an hour. The fire-sky lingers, the stars appear lumberingly, even the Eastern Sky who usually gives up her light right away holds its blue as long as its able. Deepening ever so slowly as the march toward death begins.
The dead of night December. 7 1/2 hours of grizzly grey cloud-light. The light deprived muffle their internal screams. The sacred folks twinkle and solace in the mini-light shows. Bright music masks the murky moods of humans wanting nothing more than a warm fire, a cup of hot de-lish, and a great book to hibernate into til equinox returns enough light to make it worth getting out of bed. But I digress into the depths of the darkness and we are celebrating the light!
Light! Light! Glorious light!
Light lights is up and lightens us and dammit now the word sounds funny. I hate when I do that! Overuse word until it’s no longer that word anymore it’s some strange thing you’ve never heard of. Why is nothing else like that in life? Why only words? And why only a single word? Why not full sentences? Where in the neuropathway logic do all things known go awry from too much attention? Nowhere! No where I say! Nowhere. Therefore. Words do not exist in your brain.
You know it, but you don’t want to believe it, because you fear the neuro-grammar police. Words do not exist in your brain. Crap. That’s neurolinguistic trickery! Not is not heard! You have to make it before you erase it. Foiled again! Stupid neuro-grammar police. Bah!
Oh wait, we were celebrating and being happy and the grrr monster keeps rising. Off with her head! Go Ask Alice’s Restaurant where you can do anything you want. Her monsters don’t rise, only her pies rise. Wait a second. She has no monsters! How’d she do that?!? Must find out.
gotta run, I’m sure I have her number around here somewhere, 8675309, right? something like that
tained love, barbaric hugs, and snarly grumpy slugs,
~ M
p.s.
the number was blocked!
I am incensed. Yes, I am Jasmine wafting on the smokey trails of a stick set afire.
p.p.s.
The place of no words is right there in your brain. Pro-Tip: For fastest enlightenment, meditate on your brain.
That Is All.
p.p.p.s.
duh, I know Alice is get not do, stop sending me hate mail! Alice doesn’t mind one bit and neither should you Mr Poo. Pooheaded poopoo mouth making bad on my pretty, breaking the cardinal rule “Be Exellent To Each Other”. Why are are following bird rules, tell me! Tell me why!!!
p.p.p.p.s.
Tell me why, did you sit on my car.
Tell me why tell me why did you fart in the jar.
Tell me why tell me why are you stuck in a loop
tell me why tell me why can’t you stop smelly poop?