not meeting you

not meeting our followerers,

makes this


messed up

in one life

normal in another




this is life

and i want to meet you

loving, ife l

sometimes it slumps ya likea snail.

your a slug

you go anyway

any format

with a smirk

and a shirt

and a shit


you’re fucking all over the place


you just want to meet someone fucking real





one is fucking real





am i




i shouldn’t


but i love life

because i made





your cat and your dog are fighting at the dining room table andd you have headphones in and you hear their bursts and they are new to each other as you are new to them .

and you just keep typing, knowing tht dog will get snyped nose and cat will battle and there will be battle and you don’t care, buecase battling happens in life and it needs to happen in life and you need to know that battles happen

connection with people

I don’t really know what connects us. When you have a live brain and you think you have the most open brain in new york toronto city.

I think if you’re not connecting with people, and you think its them that are failing,

it’s actually you.


Because you’re able.

it’s just a determination if you desire that. if you want that.




If we had one follower that responded, understood, agreeded,sympthaizeid, knew what was going on in our brain,


I wonder if that would be enough.

Looking Back at Old Happies

You realize new things all the time. Sometimes you ignore them. Sometimes you can’t.
Sometimes deeper inflection means more new things.
I used to be a giggle, life loving, small things make me laugh loud, person.
It got crumpled over the years and now, looking back I tend to feel sad at the loss of that characteristic of me.
But as it turns out,
I am in charge of my self.
I really can promote that type of easy happy. Just by changing some brain thoughts.
I realize that over time I have gotten more conscious of my little springy happiness and thought it to be childish. But now I know that those are the things that do make me happy and without them, I lose a big chunk of self. And losing a good part of self, is a sadness.
I dont’ feel 27. I still feel 20. And that is where the imbalance comes from.
I shouldn’t care about what others thnk anymore. Because it’s wrecking my life.

So I shall now walk into my days with a silliness, a goofiness that I’ve tucked away in trenches. Because that’s the kind of happiness I am good at creating and being around. That’s the me that I need to live.