Thoughts from a 3rd Story Balcony

The deck is soft, the rot spreading fast.
And I sit doing what I shouldn't, slowing enjoying the guilt.

"You've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down"
The Walrus - The Beatles

In just over a month I will be sitting in a treehouse once again.
Meet you there heterosexual life partner.

There may be a rabbit loose, disguised as a polar bear.

How do you know its reality? A hallucination?
I saw a man one night, walking from Agnes to Elliot.
His arm made many sounds as they slide past his, out of season "puffy" jacket.
As he passed beneath my perch, he sang.
Just loud enough for me to hear,
"I think everythings gonna be all right"
Sounded like Rocketman.
He just graced me with that one line and off he went,
silent in the darkness.
Was he real?

I try to regulate myself too much. My muse must be Chaos.
My life lead like a soilder. My soul inspired by the fates.


I dream of fear.

What the hell is an irrational thought?
I am told to not have them anymore. But then what?
Can someone tell me difference between a cognitive thought and instinct,
and then tell me how to control them.

If someone became god, what theme music would they use?

I'm going to start a Sharpie Support Group... anyone?

I'd like to get back to my old writing style,
creative not self loathing.

Breathe Deep
and Imagine a world...
A most perfect tree..
its branches
and two young people sitting beneath.
Each giggling and mocking each other for it.
What a nice world that would be.

Breathe Out