I am here, eating out the melted Berry Sour off my finger, the candy stretching out like wax-like taffy, dripping back on to its fuchsia Candy 4 Cures can (of the Jimmy V Foundation which Dad Ambrose received as a complimentary gift along with innumerable other cans of soursuckers from a Carolina golf tournament. Dave Mira was also a participant who ditched his skateboard temporarily for tee). I am wearing my sunglasses. My excuses: it's high noon and my eyes are bulging out of their sockets; I have been bawling my head off since ten last night.
I am also reading Plath's "The Fearful" and "A Life". On and on I go about it. A representation of my present state of mind.
Unpretty.
I am also reading Plath's "The Fearful" and "A Life". On and on I go about it. A representation of my present state of mind.
Unpretty.
posted by Louella at 10:16 PM
5 Comments:
Money sucks you dry. But, boy, is it great.
Look closely.
I spelled it fuchsia.
The fact that you chose your identity as 'anonymous' makes me want to just believe that you are one of those fucks in school who want to scream at my face bloody murder but can't do so because they are bleeding cowards.
If I am not mistaken, you are that crackhead I trampled on last week. I have an advice for you: When I want your opinion , I'll beat it out of you.
I am the poor lanky guy u dissed last july. u dont know remember my face. i submitted my contributions yet u didnt texted me. but u said ur gona text me. why o why! i write mushy mushy poems. so what? dillweed
Install a grammar check in your Microsoft Word program. Then come back to me. Thanks.
like ur sayin that u hvnt had even one typo all ur life..hehe..beats me
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