Woozy.

Oh what do we know? What will I ever know? I feel like I've floated up out of my mind. Looking down into my life, but not the operator of it. Some call this progression. I can't tell which direction I'm headed. I'm at a stand still, I'm kind of quiet. Absolutely do I not want to make a move. A decision. Can't I just be confused? I'm thinking in a stop and go procession.

Watch out for whip lash.

I denied a thing I loved dearly last night. That's what I've been trying to do lately. Call it a project of impulse. Exercising the word "no." "Maybe" "Later?" I only say yes in disguise.

I need to go now, but I'd like to stay.

There's only one kind of rich and that's filthy.

I will antagonize you and I'd rather not help it. Especially easy to agitate is my mother, whom I love subjecting to environmental filth. Both she and my sister are meticulously clean individuals. Neither deal with bodily fluids or secretions very well. Therefore I make it a point to be digesting. I know what's in my blood and I don't mind if it's all over the place. So , no. I don't feel guilty my crotch just bled on your seat cover. It's a cover! You're lucky I didn't piss on it... because I have and I will again.

It's not the kind of intended filth that drives roommates to each others throats. It's more like a cat and mouse kind of interaction. Straight up Tom and Jerry. I leave things under furniture to ferment and mold, which bothers me none the least, and still get a laugh when someone else freaks out about my colony. It's fine! It's not black. You won't die. Just squirm a little for me, please?

Small details like menses blood and fungus are what make my friends my friends. They don't mind that my body works optimally. Most times they appreciate my vile habits. Always there for a good hosing down when I'm sticky. Even better they accept my nudity. And my gas.

The cherry on top is that actually appreciate me for it. Well, my sister may not appreciate it but she accepts it enough to just groan (which makes me smile). It felt so good to take a piss standing up into the lake. Peeing standing up makes me feel rugged (and slightly accomplished, but don't tell anyone). I won't take a dump without toilet paper though but I'll wipe my pissy pussy with my palm...and fling it at my sister. Although she is never aware when I do that. Haha.

Thankfully, she's too hygienic to ever do that to me. I think more people should be less "hygienic". I say expose your blood to strange molecules. Ingest gross things. Make acquaintances with your HLA receptors! Do it! There's a chance it'll boost your immune system. However, if your immune system is lacking already - don't listen to me. I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm just someone who enjoys the simpler things in life.

Sentimental Barometer

I have feelings, as much as I'd like to swallow them. It's a curious thing to have feelings. You never know from which crevice they came from and where they will retreat to. I have a wind chime for an emotional indicator. Soft notes float away with my melancholy while the next gust brings exhilaration. Like a drop in the ocean that changes the tide and controls the gale.

My moral character can be traced on a timeline, which can be converted to a graph. Frequency of lovers plotted on the X-axis, with virtue plotted on the Y. It's not that I act with calculated manipulation, just that I act with disregard. I don't deal with my emotions, so maybe that should be policy when dealing with me. I've said before, I've got a disclaimer. I come with fine print. I won't let you know until you've signed on the dotted line all the little things that don't apply.

Somewhere deep inside my eggshell mind sits that girl I once knew. So full of ideals and maybe some innocence. Hard to distinguish if it was actually there, but I'll give the benefit of the doubt that at one time I was unadulterated. My Lord do I act jaded, but what can one do once the threshold is reached? Just sit adorned, I suppose.