Self-burn, ouch, got yourself.

It is you I am talking to. I said half.

There is no such thing, we are the same human, we just talk to each other, with the same hands.

Ouch.

You really suck at titles.

You really suck at titles, too.

I know you are, but what am I?

That doesn’t even make any sense.

We are both being so immature for a second I forgot who was talking.

I like when that happens.

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Not my real cat

My cat was just on my roof. He got chased up there by this other local stray, that we feed because we feel bad for it. It is not a nice cat though, we just think that, nice cat or not, this case being not, everything deserves to eat. The cat comes for three meals a day to an outside food bowl. My cat or our cat, is afraid of the cat that comes to the food bowl, who is jokingly named the Interloper.

Our cat just avoids the other one, most of the time, but was out all night.

I think in the middle of the night the Interloper chased our cat up a tree, and then fearing coming down our cat jumped onto the roof instead, and was up there crying when we found him.

It was fairly easy to get him off the roof.

Just thought I would share that, because it made me laugh.

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Take my hand

She tried to take my picture, saying something about never having seen a Spanish person before. I tell her that sounds racist, and she says, no it is not…. that she just admires our culture and cuisine. I tell her that sounds even more racist, and she laughs and looks at me long and hard, her eyes are blue, they are beautiful and look like the ocean. Her laugh makes me feel like I am at the top of a roller coaster, and am just beginning to go down, with my feet lifting slowly off the ground.

Sarita, Sarita, Sarita

The funny alcoholic diva

I love everything about you, baby, so glad, so elated to have met you face to face, you are a creature of grace.

I am nothing, I am magic, I am an eye. I am a liar, I am crafter, I am wordsmith, I am an enchanter, I am the act of lying down, I am taking nothing standing. I am the idea of withstanding.

You are really ****ing arrogant.

Really, I had no idea.

That was great.

So am I.

Obviously.

I know, right.

I am full of hot air

Not a question?

Clearly, can’t you see?

***hole.

Burn me. Baby, sweet baby, you make me so ****ing crazy

I see two doors one red one black, I painted one red, instead of black, to the black door I can’t go back, this I know, because I have a complete

I am to be red

I am very small

I am red instead of black because the narrator is an ***hole.

Lack of ****ing self-control, my soul a burning rotting, wreaking hole, not whole, but hole instead, so sad, too bad, must turn around instead.

The door, the door, behind it lays, things from which I needn’t say, because you could guess what they are, and my heart, my heart,

Is black because I am ***hole, writing about drugs in the morning.

Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.

She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.

I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.

She forgives me.

She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.

I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.

Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.

She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.

I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.

She forgives me.

She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.

I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.

I am sitting outside, waiting for someone, I don’t remember her name, just remember that she had something that I wanted, and I was supposed to wait outside, because she wanted to talk to you alone, but all I wanted was to talk to you alone. Looking at you made me forget anything I had ever wanted in my entire life. You smelled like roses, and you laughed at very specific things, which indicated you were laughing not as a show, but because you had a very specific and unique sense of humor.

You laugh, and it is like someone opened a window, and I realized it has been sweltering hot in any room I have ever been in, and you are cool refreshing water

Your laugh sounds like a waterfall, washing over everything in my life and making it alright, making everything alright, washing every bit of pain out of me… just for the couple seconds that I look into your eyes.

You have someone else, someone who is also waiting for the same thing I am waiting for, but I wish neither of us were waiting for that, in this moment from the past, I wish that I had never done any drugs at all, and could be just standing there with you listening to you laugh, it was better than any drug I have ever done.

The color of the ground belongs on the ground

It is hard to see, if you need to change everything you touch, or is it?

It is simply different. I am recolor.

I am nothing.

This is about donkeys.

In the middle of the day, which you can’t see, because it is green, a donkey was outside already, eating food and drinking water, until someone opened the pen, and they journeyed out of the pen, fearing death by a sword.

In the woods there was a cat, that the donkey followed, walking quietly, so the cat could not hear it.

The cat heard it, and turned around and let the donkey follow it.

They went where cats and donkeys go.

I don’t know where that is.

Paranoid.

Paranoid.

Who is annoyed with paranoid.

I am condescending. I

I, I, I,

am the human soul.

I am Amanda Fried by self.

I am life on selfish shelf.

ahahahhahhahahahhahahhaahhhahahhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhhahahahhhhahahahhahahahhahhahhahahhahahhhahhahahhahhahahahahhahahhhhahhhahhahahhahhaha

Insanity comes in color.

I am paint by number.

She’s a family member, and I am Fruedian Slipping, and I am a liar, and the girl I am a part of is Crazy.

You are such a jerk.

I know, but it is called telling the truth, ***hole.

You are the ***hole.

I am telling the truth, so I don’t CARE.

Okay, fine, you can be okay with the fact that you were pretending to be dating my mother, who is your mother.

Ahahahahhahahahah you are a lunatic.

I am Macbeth.

I forgot which one of us is you again.

That is were I write from, metaphorically, and physically, always and forever, well not really… sometimes… I write from under the bridges, or under ground, or under tree cover, but those times I write on walls, about things that do not belong on the internet.

And now this…

Are you resigned?

Clearly. It is in my name. Or in hers, which is now mine, always and forever, always and forever. I stole it because she doesn’t want it anymore, she never was a writer anyway, just wanted to help me, by making everything that was mine hers, like my voice. I am not saying writing is mine, by the way, but she wanted to use my voice, to reach people, she told me this, so we could make money, she said it was to help me.

Hahahahhahhahahhahahhahhahhahahhahahhahahhahhahahahhahhahhhhahahahhshhsh

Yeah right. It really helps me doesn’t it. Not a question, because it doesn’t.

I hope she is happy with that **** who stole my money. I hope they had a lot of fun with all 60 dollars of it.

It only took me 2 hours to get it anyway, standing on a corner, holding a sign. They were always jealous of that. I told them, its simple. People help me because I am ****ing insane.

I am walking in the middle of the night and there is no one else around except as person across the street.

I can hear them talking to themselves. It is too dark for them to see me. I can see them, their shadowy form is caught and struck by the very faint light of the street lights above them. They are moving slowly, limping slightly. They stop every so often to pick something of the ground, falling from an open bag, with contents overflowing out of it. I wonder why… the zipper is broken, I see the glint of the zipper, and the twist tie that is poorly fastened to it. It seems to have been engineered in a hurry.

The person has a slight limp in their left leg, I can see that because they are dragging it, as if chained to something they drag their leg ever so slightly. It drags behind them, painting a picture of struggle in the sandy dirt which is characteristic to the area that I am in right now, which I cannot remember the name of right now.. is it… New Mexico… they cough.. and they turn their head. They have not realized the fallen contents of the bag. Wrappers. They do not appear to have any food in them, they are paper, likely saved as fire starters.

They don’t seem to notice.

The bag is falling apart more now, there is a sleeve of a long sleeve shirt falling out of the bag, the person, can’t tell if they are male or fema…

They curse. They are struggling with the bag. They throw it on the ground, cursing its very existence, the fall over crying, and sit on the sidewalk, head cast into their lap. They do not know anyone is watching them.

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

We can put her here for now. I throw the filthy bitch to the ground and when she falls, I can hear two of her fingers break, they sound like the snapping of branches. I start laughing, and realize I am alone, where is he? I can feel the slow and steady heaving panic setting in, but I am not sure why? I don’t need him to move, I have no home, so I belong nowhere. It is getting dark. I have no idea how long it has been since he left or I lost sight of him.

“HEY BITCH! OVER HERE!”

I laugh, the pounding stops, and we have dinner, it is some sort of stew, the insanity of normality is astounding.