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lady lunous comedy night 5/18/13how's everybody doing out there tonight at club sith? you'll have to forgive me if its looks like i'm giving you an evil glare. i gotta squint to attempt to make out who's who. i could say i misplaced my glasses and leave it at that but i can't rightly say i even had em on today. if i act a little loopy-disoriented and otherwise out of sorts you'll have to forgive me for that too. i went shopping with my mom earlier today...it was rainning. i love the rain-its soothing. there is nothing like sitting in a quiet house listening to the rain. but when you're fluffy and have osteo-arthritis and bursitis and tendonitis and sciatica you don't get out on a day like today was. as soothing as the rain is it tends to make all those itises worse. you may wonder what that has to do with the glasses that may or may not have been misplaced-you don't trek through 2nd hand mini-malls on a day like today without a little something something to
excerpts from lady lunous comedy nights club siththings said by my granny evilyn that bug me. don't painc heman i'm not related to the evil witch you fight...mine is so much worse. she'd make even you run screaming in terror
what gets me most that she says...everytime i drop something "didja fall?" gee i dont know did the ground shake? is the news reporting that the nearest sismic station reported an unexplainable spike just now? wtf? i know im fluffy. i can hear it now-if i ever do fall shes gonna start screaming "its judgement day!...head for the hills!" you head for the hills to hide i've spent long enough in purgatory thank you very much.
another phrase that gets me "them 3 boys" as in i aint heard you play it-you still listen to them 3 boys?. them 3 boys as she calls em grew up the oldest is 2 months my senior. i don't call 32 or 30 or 27 a boy-yet somehow in her mind they never seem to age. 2nd in the fifteen years since they were them 3 boys they have made other
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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