i can feel it

i'm into the feeling i get when i consciously decide to cross the road on a one-lane road when there's a car coming each way and they're too far to (probably, but not definitely-- depends how quickly i scoot across) clip you, but close enough to make me (romantically) curious about persishing.
autosandwich, bloodyautosandwish
and then i sigh and sometimes i'm glad and sometimes i'm unfulfilled.
normally, i grin nervously for a minute or two.

and yeah--- phones that take photos-- only look cool if you know how to use them.
and yeah, fuck.

friends give friends friends
and then everything gets messy
and things said and things left unsaid
and there is jealousy and awkwardness and dumb love polygons and friends that haven't been friends long enough and some too long and you hope to be a good pal by giving other pals pals but then you realize you want them for yourself or nobody knows your friends like you or nobody entertains your friends like your friend even tho you don't want them to and really then if your friends like your friend then who do you have?
nothing is left untouched.

and chris was here to play a superstore staffroom crib game with em and they had barrels of larfs using architecture trees as pegs and xend their board asian hotdog
they: it would be great to have mozzy dogs
me: ozzydogs?
they: no, mozzydogs
me: who's lozzy?
and i make granola bars and if you are lucky, i have a piece with your name on it
and em and i sucked on some herb
and i gave her a backrub
and then we realized greg wasn't delerious when we saw him frantically wiping something off the kitchen floor, half-dazed-- he couldn't tell us what it was.
we totally thought he was out of it-- somnambulism even. but silently he went to bed without making much of a fuss-- just silently wiping it up.
a fucking quarter cup of sticky as geezis brown rice syrup all over the floor
and if we hadn't noticed-- the ants would've carried the house away to middle-ant-earth in the night. so against my deepest desires, i cleaned it up (with emily's kind assistance, amid laughter)-- i will miss her) and consequently had to chuck a lot of my baking stuff and then we covered the organic sarlack pit with borax to keep the ants away (mayhaps)
and greg is still sick and i felt like drinking my face off tonight but no one was inuit and so we didn't so there's always tomorrow.

ain't it fun when you love where you are and twelve hours later you abhor it it and maybe you might come around a bit later but your skeleton and soul are just shaking so badly you might vomit if you had the strength?