29.Mar.2003

remember one word

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smurf

It's a beautiful day, and I can't move.

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With my Barnes & Noble gift-card, an early birthday present from my extremely poetic cousin, I purchased e.e. cummings poetry, Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank, otherwise known as Harry Hart, Tesla: Man Out of Time, and The Fuck Up (Look at this title, my literary vixens, and on top of this, it's somewhat psychosexual.[!]) by Arthur Nersesian.

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I would sell my right ovary for The Heathers Soundtrack.

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I had something else to say about my thought-process during multiple orgasms, and the world turned into a gargantuan tuning fork, and my courtyard becoming positively lurid with pigeons, and how I love the idea of Tesla coalesced with romance, and the subtle process of being spoon-fed monosyllabic affections.

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Remind me to drink until the simple process of name-remembering becomes operose. It will have to be sometime after midnight. You've been warned.

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time & machine