Deer Mommy,I know I'm not soposd to go in your room wen you not home.
but i wen the babysiter fell asleep I got bord.I know you always tell me to nock beforI come in, but you wernt hom so Ijust went in. After making sure all yourshoos fit right, I found this box.
I thoughtthere would be more shoos in it but therewas onli stoopid magaseens. I think thepeeple in them were getting ready to take abath becus they had no cloths on. So wenNana came by, I asked her to reed themto me wile i take a bath. Then she mademe go to bed.
love,Suzi
p.s. sorry fr blowing up all the baloons indaddy's night stand.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Noise
(matrix)
Love is like the wind
you can't see it, but you can feel it.
Lust, it's close cousin
a tornado encompassing you
consuming you with it's pressence,
so that when you admire the things around you,
all you find are the remnants of your past,
and abstractions of your future.
The rush is exhillirating
A crisp winter evening
all bundled up with only your cheeks and nose
Exposed
the hissing wind grabs a handful of snow
and throws it at your face
freezing it at once causing
pain
a prickling sensation,
yet somehow a pleasant feeling
one you hope will continue to accompany you
Blistering, white sand
braces your back as you lay upon the ocean's
smooth, salty beach
the Feeling is becoming so strong
and the wind
Never leaves
the essence and aroma of bittersweet salt
in the air comes over you, pinching your senses
so that every one of them is
awakened
You're intoxicated.
Content.
The sensation is overwhelming
a tear falls off your face as your cheeks crease
the wind bitting at your nose until it runs
How could such a simple thing seem so
Colossal
make you conscious of so many things
Love at it's strongest
But the wind is unpredictable
it can go from a calm, light breeze that gently
Pulls at your hair
and pick up to a vicious, violent storm
Throwing you everywhere
Rushing through you and
Tearing Apart
your thoughts.
The tornado looms from the storm once more
but it's no longer peaceful
surrounding you with
agony
consuming you with
despair
it gnaws at your ear, but you can no longer make out what it's saying
the chaos fogs your thoughts it becomes irritable and distasteful
an awful memory of a once admirable thing
but all you hear is
NOISE
your tears are the rain
pouring out of the clouds and
crashing
down with out grace
the agile breeze and harmonious drizzle
Gone.
The sun cascading from the clouds
enough to distort your thoughts
but not alter them
It no longer gives you
Pleasure
you hardly know it's
There
and eventually
The wind stops blowing.
(matrix)
Love is like the wind
you can't see it, but you can feel it.
Lust, it's close cousin
a tornado encompassing you
consuming you with it's pressence,
so that when you admire the things around you,
all you find are the remnants of your past,
and abstractions of your future.
The rush is exhillirating
A crisp winter evening
all bundled up with only your cheeks and nose
Exposed
the hissing wind grabs a handful of snow
and throws it at your face
freezing it at once causing
pain
a prickling sensation,
yet somehow a pleasant feeling
one you hope will continue to accompany you
Blistering, white sand
braces your back as you lay upon the ocean's
smooth, salty beach
the Feeling is becoming so strong
and the wind
Never leaves
the essence and aroma of bittersweet salt
in the air comes over you, pinching your senses
so that every one of them is
awakened
You're intoxicated.
Content.
The sensation is overwhelming
a tear falls off your face as your cheeks crease
the wind bitting at your nose until it runs
How could such a simple thing seem so
Colossal
make you conscious of so many things
Love at it's strongest
But the wind is unpredictable
it can go from a calm, light breeze that gently
Pulls at your hair
and pick up to a vicious, violent storm
Throwing you everywhere
Rushing through you and
Tearing Apart
your thoughts.
The tornado looms from the storm once more
but it's no longer peaceful
surrounding you with
agony
consuming you with
despair
it gnaws at your ear, but you can no longer make out what it's saying
the chaos fogs your thoughts it becomes irritable and distasteful
an awful memory of a once admirable thing
but all you hear is
NOISE
your tears are the rain
pouring out of the clouds and
crashing
down with out grace
the agile breeze and harmonious drizzle
Gone.
The sun cascading from the clouds
enough to distort your thoughts
but not alter them
It no longer gives you
Pleasure
you hardly know it's
There
and eventually
The wind stops blowing.
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