Im going to begin writing on this screen everyday (sure, sure you will) because Ive got the delusion that no one will see but hey! Maybe someone will see it! goin & thats all the proper encouragment I require.
So today. Today I want to run away & become a farmer as inspired by my cousins jewish friend who woke up at six AM & slaughtered a lamb then cooked up & ate its kidneys with a nice refreshing alcoholic blend. Afterward he hung its head from his porch ao the blood could drain & he can later feast upon its brains. I mean can you even imagine a better cure for a hangover!? I cant tell you how much I wish I couldve woken up & just murdered the shit out of a lamb this morning. Which I guess when faced with the likes of reality would never really work. Cause one I dont get hangovers. Im an alcoholic. & two I could never murder the shit out of anything. Especially a lamb. I cant even eat lamb..I feel like Im eating puppies. Plus that last holiday before my grandmother passed away my cousins husband helped prepare lamb for dinner. It was the first holiday he’d ever been to & the last one we ever had. Both things I associate & contribute to her passing. I kind of want to compose a childrens picturebook for cousin about it. “Adam & the Lamb”. Maybe later.
& maybe I’ll never be a real farmer…but I wish I could stop the poison from bursting out of my veins all the time all over tje people I care for most. Its heavy. Its too heavy for me anyway & it pains me that I do that to them. Im a relationship farmer. I conduct my killings in the night & wake up Covered in spaghettios.
Man cousins jewish friend is a jerk.

Tumblr high five!

Don’t you hate when you mix up the vodka & the peach iced tea?!  …I don’t care that much anymore

We did it, President’s Day!!  We stayed in bed all fucking day & didn’t get up for shit!  Not even when our landlord phoned most presumably to address our hand written complaint composed at 12:54 AM Sunday morning.  The one etched in scribble scrawl wherein we described, for the second time in as many weeks, how the new goddamn neighbor is smoking cigarettes in its apartment…just like the old goddamn neighbor.  It went away for a short time but it’s back & nothing makes me Fucking Crazier…I have learned.  All I remember is that it began with the delicate phrasing “Can nothing be done??” & ended with “I’m bringing my cat over to live!”  Cuz see in my head, you can obviously just do whatever the fuck you want at this aprtment complex…if this asshole is going to smoke & I must suffer—Well you see where I’m going here?  I just can’t really be sure that I made that all so terribly clear in the complaint.  I think it was more just big circles in the margins cuz my pen wouldn’t work & ..”Cat!  LIVE!”  Whatever.  She left me a voice message.  Maybe I’ll make Aly listen to it tomorrow.  This is brining down my President’s day high.  The most magical of Monday Holidays.  I’m going to get a milk.