Tuesday, August 5, 2014


Sometimes people can't control themselves and that makes them angry. Not necessarily angry because they are sorry for the things they've said, but because of the hot shame that takes hold of them at every remembrance. An uncomfortable lack of control over the situation twists a rational man into a beast and the sweetest of women bewitched into raging cunts.

When you love somebody existence seems infinitesimal and eternity cracks open a FOUR LOKO for the long stretch. Baby, times stands absolutely still. 

You will never age while you are in love. You will never die and you will never get sick. You are frozen in love forever. 

Dog Father knew what he needed to do to harness the capacity of fathomless essence that oozed off of couples like dripping caramel, to steal the power of love he had to succumb. 


 Customs practiced in repetitious enslavement ending in absolution do not necessarily inspire a man of faith, but allude to a more insidious routine of sin, save, sin. 

The man understands his faith and he may practice it daily but that does not mean he believes it. Lily believed no one should be a slave to another be they God or mortal and enforced this belief through a debacle of loitering among the lacquered pews in a blatant act of rebellion, and by with-holding herself from joining the teeming sheep lined up for the sake of safe ignorance. 

As far as she was concerned, Kennedy was the last honest president. 

She watched her father's long pant suited legs bend to kneel before Mrs. Beatrice Cook, a member of the congregation who lived in their neighborhood, and he dipped his head to receive the blood of Christ.  She remembered dinner the night before.


"Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs,
Now drinking citron with his Grace and Chartres:
65  Now Conscience chills her, and now Passion burns;
And Atheism and Religion take their turns;
A very Heathen in the carnal part,
Yet still a sad, good Christian at her heart."
- moral essays
Epistle II
 Of the characters of women (1735)
by Alexander Pope

A Lonely Rot

Taro Lonely lived in a hub
Where he sat and he read and he measured his rub.
Taro Lonely lived in a dream
Where he wept and he loved and he covered his scream.
Taro Lonely lived in a star
Where he carved and he smashed and he buried his scar.

Taro Lonely is not here. Not anymore: it's A Lonely Rot.

Real Talk

The people that I love the most are the people who inspire me:

My mom.
All three of my sisters because to me they are a valkyrie of self confidence. 
My father for tearing me down at every opportunity. 
My Step Mother for teaching me tolerance. 
My cousin for teaching me trust.
My bestie for teaching me friendship.
My older brother for giving me his protection.