mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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crabble.

another night i wasn't stolen away to faerieland (where i belong).

hello you fucking doily shaped world. you perforated world. i'd throw the word "jejune" your way, but i'm pretty sure thats a lacey fucking word, too. & i'd hate to be appropriate. to toss some language together like tinker-toys? thats more my style. the sky all in mourning. which works out great; i don't have clean laundry, so i'll be wearing a long sleaved ben folds five shirt today. it isn't even black! wasn't i saying something about uh- compromise earlier? or maybe i just thought it. dear me oh my i can't even tell the diffrence between internal monolouge & ha, external monolouge. oh geez we're all so surprised to hear about my self-centeredness.

on the MAJOR plus side of the column? jenny made me a mix cd. its nice; i think this is the third mix-something she's ever made for me. i'm pretty amped about it. i'm listening to it for the first time currently. haha, here is me shedding my brooding psychopath aura in exchange for the enthusiastic geek. look how quick that was! about four lines of text.

when i talk to my "audiance?" its not so much dear mister henshaw. i figured out what it is. it wasn't so hard, when i thought about it. "look on my works oh ye mighty & despair?" right. ozymandus & me are addressing the same folks. of course, the ruin aspect might be in some kind of flux, but whatever. i feel like i'm basically a caved in cathedral to mem, sometimes. mem, dig? is the angelic script letter, not the hebrew one. because um, i think i might have mentioned it before? i kind of like angels, as a theme.

holy shit this is a good song & its the first time i've ever heard it. oh shit, i really like my girlfriend. its not like i waffle on the subject, i guess. lately i don't feel like i've seen her enough. lately i don't feel anything enough- i feel like i'm elsewhere all the time, busy doing who knows what. the same with the internet. didn't i become a ghost? wasn't i haunting you, ozymandus? i wrote your name on the mirror with my finger, while you were in the shower. i surrounded it in a heart, ozymandus. i mean jenny. fuck this joke! my heart is swelling up like the fucking grinch on christmas (or x-mas; fuck jesus!). i don't even know what to do with myself! its a good thing i have to go work the rush eventually. or i'd probably turn this fucking planet into a hive, with each bee's wings making some humming that talks only about my secret. my number one secret: that i am in love with her.

remember those toys? that were people riding on dinosaurs? or, some of them were people- the people used psychic broaches to communicate with the brontosaurus, or deinonychus or whatever. then there were these dudes with like, bug heads, or lizard heads, or whatever. their leader kind of had a frog head. they used "brain boxes" to control the dinosaurs...through foul & wicked science! i think maybe the line was "dino-riders." that was sweet.
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