The three main points I want to get across:
A) I love Coldplay.
B) Today was a fantastic day. I didn't have to tell anyone to suck it.
C) It's cold as a witch's titty in my room right now.
So... I took cow pictures today at Rachael's home of amazingness, but that girl just threw them away like they were the panties your ex got you that make you feel awkward. I would be pissed, but she's a vegetarian so I love her without fail. I woke up next to her this morning actually. It was scandalous. Don't worry... nothing happened between me and her.... me and the cows on the other hand. Oh ha. Bestiality jokes are great for any blog.
Moving on. I saw beautiful scenes of the natural variety while driving to and from Alabama, and it made me a happy vegan rather than a cynical one for once. It set the mood for a great day. I had lunch with my mom, bro, aunt, and uncle. Then, I had a tap showcase with my tap homies (everyone should have tap homies), and then I hung out with James and ate among the hispanics at El Mesón. Ending the day surrounded by my peeps (namely the hispanohablantes) was the vegan whipped cream on the top of my soy sundae of a day. Oh, and I got the part I auditioned for at the Chattanooga Theatre Centre so you better freakin be there mid-july because I have to wear roller blades, and the last time I got on roller blades you promised to spot me but then you left me for you slut ex-girlfriend to go get dunkin donuts.
Anywaysie... I'm tired because I have been very busy lately. Plus I just ate like 65 tums to simmer down the effects of the irresistibly hot salsa I consumed, and I know they are just tums but I think I may be hallucinating. I'm okay with it though. I've been sober for too long anyway.
While this post may not change the world, it is clinically proven to cure what ails ya. Ok.. now I really gotta go.
Thank you for reading this.
Respect all life
Buenas Noches
Katlyn- The friend, the vegan, the legend.
1 comment:
Thanks for the holla, ho. It was a bit begrudging, but I love you too. In fact, I wanted to give you a bear hug so bad I made a google account. I also made tacos with fake meat crumbles for me and my parents - it was good.
Your title also reminded me of this poem I read called:
"Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem" by Bob Hicok.
My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think
praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what's happening,
it's what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of "Old Battersea Bridge."
I like the idea of different
theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook
of a cousin universe I've never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,
your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb
but couldn't hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother's belly
she had to scream out.
Here when I say "I never want to be without you,"
somewhere else I am saying
"I never want to be without you again." And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet
in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.
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