you make life seem scary for a second.

I can see it in colour then to read to next down the list -(of weed leaves to count.)

The walker of fame. Walking through the squirts and magical sneezing clicks strict currents of repeated bands scaling through as they bounce through to the otherside. A place soaked and slammed with the last sentence as a tiny small loving.

#purejournalentry #onlinediary #somepeoplemightlikeit #icanseeitincolour #thelastrectangle #religion #newideastolife #lookingback #spurts of genius #internetfreakz

He likes all the little girl antics of wanting to be a princess. 

my house mate keeps walking around the fire and like soaking up the heat from it like a sponge.
His friend is so rude though. I begin typing and he puts his hand up on the side of the couch like some Indian gypsy telling me to stop and then persisting in firmly tapping the top of my knee as I sit across to him. Reaching like tugging on his own chest for the pull into his tap.

The Professional Weed Lovers





Lazed around moped with boney with slurred words get up and gloopy brightness of colour I could see him as, his clothes, his bed sheets, the titles of an E Four Horsemen book sticking out the edge and stuck up near all these dvds. Turning around with a fake glass remember thinking (this is when you quote your normal body language said, what's going on in head) turning around being like this is my other baby beug this is how good it is, it's pretty clean too. fuck oath true loook breee yerp check that" .. As I slouch.. but the noises, like it's too hot. Why's it too hot? Like it.. As if it does a... like it would do... or a simple No way it's going like that for me, so it pokes them on the cusp of deathful disappointment of feeling the very stream of a sweatlet drop at the last bridge to cross before you go beyond that creasant moon underneath strolling through a forest of frollocking tips like flickering snakes so fierce and like thick beige wallframe paint without our doors slippery we can slither and stretch as tree top ends, like angry cats, stretching cats, floppy ears flapping, writing without your glasses, thinking of excuses to say "nah or no thank-you", how lethargic it would be like sliding down the doona slagging down the edge of the bed. You are the spit survivor, and that is your waterslide, that's where you've chosen to sling into your machine life of direction, and family, family aspects, how long until you set off your own short temper and you realise how it's the switch that's been flicked to up-spicy - you're a type of groove you can't walk over away from suffocating from living in yonder, so you scurry along but as the shadows are always drunk and heaving down highways we drive and walk through this and these are monsters, with soft paws we shake are forgiving disciples that meant to be evil you wiggle into a salute to the What you rely on, and so to anyone, that's emptiness.

We trust this drug, we see through hazed eyes profound colour and pattern compare to the downwards slack hanging or is the floor holding it's stool table bed side fable closer does it pull closer to the ground?    Does this mean we're asking if gravity is the 'second; most natural thing to after us as human-beings? What happens if we believed in gravity? Love and livelihood will float like it's successful and things would be so very light, would the dire crave of reaching out for something in front of any attraction? Can we believe in ourselves as trekkers of Love, one's with palms out and sliding on their heels for a sense of companionship they

the way he held bong. remind me of painting of his room.. shame i won't recall this as wholesome.

Keep the day trust sweat, exer-work.


Pe

remember to write about how he was the perfect stoner to travel through time.
This is a letter from me

i swear i walked in on my mate wanking, his room stinks now.


The older adults are not the youth, as we talk more together as youth than adults.. Unless they're really passionate at something.

The older adults think we want to grow into their shoes, they don't know what they're dealing with if we're taught by them. They need to remember who they are teaching just by living.

The older adults
I know what youth means
They're hiding real life. What's more important?

okneedsgivemeahomefbneedsashelter

facebook is weed earth is blue the seas are waves crashing

I just want to tell you the answer but it's perfect, I can't give it up for some spook to stumble and tumble my oh my fireworks yes explosions make history but I'm not terrorist so I'll reframe on the subjective planning a possible victory, in my writing.

so you thought you'd never lose. so you thought.
the two was all that easy. even to the anonymity. you thought you'd do it over and over again. To keep your secrets
to sign upon suicide redemption
to mend your broken fucking mind and heal your memory
AND YOU THOUGHT DEATH WOULD SUFFICE (she yells, or screams) TWO CHOICES (fingers up) infinitely surrounding, heaving through.



She writes with faith in her words.

What is glory?
If this time a set facet upon the template of our faces driving by in our fast shiny aerodynamics are zooming before any little appreciation for existence from anyone, that we can see around. And if they're around, where are they exactly? We ask ourselves because I'm the one who wants time to stop, just for a second and so I continue. A place he comes from is overseas, part of a mob for an underestimation to everything even reliving again, like as if your past didn't teach you anything! An army believes in politics, hopes and dreams wholesome and the TAB. I knew this as a threat because it's a disease what we jump to consistence those include annihilation, no more humiliation we all screech.

my numbers not as hot as summers but sky rockets I can knock them like a dropped mop splat and split straight up through the ozone, it's all alike a whirl pool blanket folds that follow into an plague of digital like pixels vibrations that's simple that's basic not a whirlpool physical law it spells like a scheme it is all like I love you so attachment by a witch to her cauldron, stirring the music she seems.



I mean that.
And by and by and by, a choice everywhere. To watch it go round. A flower, a span, of beams and subjective topical anniversaries honest and before any fake and dying language. Another place we love that we relied on the steps into the darkness, the end is reason. We pray "the end is reason" as time isn't stopping for no man with no peach with remarkable to some degree as that perspective is immeasurable because these are tools we use and courageously wear now for a stretch to whispering to blooming plants, what do you say to them? If they could speak back we say to enlighten where we're already.
I've brought you into an inferior corner square to dancing heels flick and hundreds and pigeons too rule this move it all says, now another, more than you know.

A challenge against that slavery. Christopher

I gotta get famous

i'm just writing a religion as i'm living so taint taut tangled lit gas stove like hot crack smoke jointed fucking thing dropped like ting ting in the boiler kettle bing it's ready we're not better than our hair done's and i mean that cunt, by our best kept one's we save just icky bunches of flowers sprouted poets graffiti tags snapped before stealing. This is just a warm up

Cos I'm confused but that word runs along with a vinyl time that's control save on a program that I can call mine and so can you but this is different, there's a mob mopping floors hearing through their headphones jumping from their own statements because that's what the fame is doing to their brain it's insane echoes sparing roads. what's that mean you hard boiled egg holding the shit we bow down in clothes scraggy ripped off mp4's they're like ways to watch other people's stories falling apart. A good way a better quality this is the unit to mug swaps investigation and investment like a statement mixed with a sharp window pane like chipped wooden hair brushing poof cloud ushering cos my clouds better and so it waits. we wait alongside them thinking baby squeeze out the other ways. This is life babe, this is faith we live to breath a contradiction it's a simple ease to jump and with ripples for tides sucking inwards and seas fuzzy brushed like dusted feather shake your tail tensed up before someone saying again that it's not waves or circumstance that defines us as way we should change our minds to the imagination that a pinch distance we believe in, and repetition the soft ways that gently like a lovely depression i'd rather the instance with a capital delinquency leniency happy in my hoody on a friday another metaphor cos words I just wanna score. By that stamps and rulers are what I line up and reply to.

It's like the way you throw yourself at me, with your shoulders thick and so down with the stretch of your torso but it ends, and I need more. Realising what I'm seeing. This; I feel frozen, as my stomach clenches a pier like rod holding up from the seas beneath, where there are waves crashing and that's all I'm seeing because you're just good looking, and I hate something about you.

She slammed her foot down on the tarmac, all the while she was wrong but yet so palpable her doubt stutters.

Like a deal with God. These are the flush shifts that spin as a superlative emanation. A peak idea that issues a replacement of loss. I'm over it. My brain should be able to hold more than one thought.

I don't know whether to beg for this feeling to stay or if I should be writing about how relaxed and heavy I feel.
I guess, I could write about the words I use to describe this feeling, or I could describe this feeling. I'm indecisive towards what is actually and truly, worth writing about, in so many aspects, there are so many good things, so many feelings.
I discover this situation as another relapse to my losses, and how scared I am of losing more, once I'm there. 
So I write, but then I don't because I don't want to infatuate myself with one thing and let the other trail off into a tred I can't precipitate anything to let it survive and only minutes are almost as spasmodic as this is.

'We are who we are, we are what eachother is, we have no problem, we've been through fucking heaps of shit, but we are together - closer than ever. We have an understanding, known as 'the law of us'. It makes me so much more content that you fellow people have no judgements against one another, no matter, we pretty much roll by 'we got chow beck bro'. We are the family, trusting, caring, loving, supporting. Support, its nothing you just go on about 'everything will be ok, just hold tight, it'll all come around soon'. Even then if that's all that's mentions its that little extra support that is not just you can feel, it's that oblivious support. We only realise it when shit falls down and you know who's there when you need it, just by coincedence, work of god? I think so. Angels, i know so. Its that wordless support that means so much more. You just put a smile right on my dile bitch ass'.

I can't wait to feel peace within myself, with a home that I go back to. A bedroom that I finally can see four walls meet with bed sheets so bright I can just see them just trying to make me happy.

"It's just a belief, I just believe in positive and negative aspects. I mean there is so much more to life than what words describe, they're just powerful spaces of energy and we can't control them. They are so much more than the pathetic human beings we are."

4. I hate it when it's that hot, you're sweating but you're lying still.

I would try to explain my love for you but my incapabilities overcome my desire to explain.

"I want to tell you that I am in love your skin, your hair and your beautiful, chubby thighs. Your cosy stomach, your warm hugs and your killer smile.

But how can I? I know it's hard to see but I can't try any harder.

I find myself constantly screaming your name at the top of my lungs.. It's so hard to tell you with words. All I want and need is, "you're so fucking beautiful and I will love you no matter what. I will do anything in the world to make you happy and when you're feeling down, I'll give you your favourite hugs for the longest minute of your life and if you need or want another one? I'll give you two more. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world."

Because Ally, baby, I want to give you the world though, I only have so much. I want to show you how much there is to give from my heart, but I just don't know how."

"It’s the inconceivable truth that kills us all starting for the inside then out, drives us to insanity and before we know we’re 6 feet under the ground lying in a wooden polished box.

The inconceivable truth about this for me is, that I kind of like the idea. Peace never was easy.

sunday jul 18 @ 12:50am"

"The world went cold, the earth shifted into an unrecognisable land, the people died, shrivelled with disease, turning into dust, into nothingness. I was the last one, standing, my feet plastered to the evil planet, my body solid and unchanging. I lived forever, just to see it all end."

"the unreal is more powerful then the real because nothing is perfect as you can imagine it because its only the intangible ideas, concepts beliefs religion fantasies thats last, the stone crumbles the wood rots people well they die but things as fragile as a thought a dream a legend they can go on."

lovecats