i woke up smelling like booze altho none touched my lips.
i lost my mary jane (did you take it?).
i needed my perception blurred, not heightened.
i smoked myself straight.
i almost left my own party.
thanks for coming--
you were all there except some of you.
(who the fuck are you?)
sorry i couldn't've been more there
but pieces of me were everywhere.
thanks for calling-- i can't believe you bothered.
thanks for forgetting. you must've been excited.
thanks for going elsewhere and not covering your tracks.
thanks for not trashing my place
even tho violence made it look that way.
thanks, boys, for cleaning while i was @ work:
ashes. stale beer. vomit. guacamole crust. a broken coke glass. nibbled cookies. nothing special.
sorry it took me so long to find a corkscrew and that we played shitty music but i was too lazy to change it.
the party began at 8 o'fucking clock so
thank you for finally leaving.
on the the way to work today the piles of melting ice looked like beached jellyfish glistening in the sun. i touched one with my foot, but it didn't give way.
@ work i wanted to slap everyone who spoke to me. as i kicked a milkcrate across the floor at the prospect of having to assist a customer, i noted that the only thing i wanted to hear from cutsomers was them calling me beautiful. the lovely romanian woman actually called me smart. this was totally sufficient and made me feel like a jerkwad.
my chronic headache vanished in the best manner possible. your horoscope was telling. rice soup in the pot, nine hours old.
i lost my mary jane (did you take it?).
i needed my perception blurred, not heightened.
i smoked myself straight.
i almost left my own party.
thanks for coming--
you were all there except some of you.
(who the fuck are you?)
sorry i couldn't've been more there
but pieces of me were everywhere.
thanks for calling-- i can't believe you bothered.
thanks for forgetting. you must've been excited.
thanks for going elsewhere and not covering your tracks.
thanks for not trashing my place
even tho violence made it look that way.
thanks, boys, for cleaning while i was @ work:
ashes. stale beer. vomit. guacamole crust. a broken coke glass. nibbled cookies. nothing special.
sorry it took me so long to find a corkscrew and that we played shitty music but i was too lazy to change it.
the party began at 8 o'fucking clock so
thank you for finally leaving.
on the the way to work today the piles of melting ice looked like beached jellyfish glistening in the sun. i touched one with my foot, but it didn't give way.
@ work i wanted to slap everyone who spoke to me. as i kicked a milkcrate across the floor at the prospect of having to assist a customer, i noted that the only thing i wanted to hear from cutsomers was them calling me beautiful. the lovely romanian woman actually called me smart. this was totally sufficient and made me feel like a jerkwad.
my chronic headache vanished in the best manner possible. your horoscope was telling. rice soup in the pot, nine hours old.
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