day one hundred and seventy two.

i deal with the world
not revolving around me
every day.

it's both a wonderful
and a frightening thing;
like only obeying half
of the rules of the road
while riding a bike.

day one hundred and seventy one.

i'm going to wait
a week until i
bring out the
ham hock
to knock that
book back
into my hands.

day one hundred and seventy.

i made a bet that i could
complete a 3 year project
in just 6 months.



hm.

day one hundred and sixty nine.

taking away the right to be informed

distorting the truth and being one sided

yelling.

three strikes and i'll
make sure
you're out.

day one hundred and sixty eight.

beer soaked popsicles
and being accepted as
a loon.



--

i was somehow shocked
more
by the
fictional death
than the real one.

day one hundred and sixty seven.

i make the best impressions
when i stay
far away.

day one hundred and sixty six.

there's something about
the combination of it
being both
something i've never had,
being awfully bad for me,
and me not being able
to have it
that entices me closer.

day one hundred and sixty five.

the feeling sinks
to my stomach
as the drink does
too
and it evaporates
and is slept off
just as easily
despite lost words
and slurs.

day one hundred and sixty four.

there's always time

for a next time,

but there soon won't be

if you keep pushing 

it away.

everything gives up

if you do that

to it enough.

day one hundred and sixty three.

you're not trying
to make me feel terrible
you're just making me
realize
all the things that I
don't want to.

day one hundred and sixty two.

sure, i'll
come over.
we can try and open the door
to your new apartment
that you never paid for
and be locked out
together.
you, me,
and the rug you carry around
while i try and decipher
what you're saying
and wonder
how your beard
got to be so
white.

day one hundred and sixty one.

you didn't give yourself

enough time

to look,

you didn't give me

enough time

to help.

enjoy your huff

with no ketchup

on the side.

day one hundred and sixty.

finished my first

cross stitch.

approx. time it took to stitch: 3 hours (?)

approx. time it took to accomplish this: 3 years +

meet spidey.

day one hundred and fifty nine.

it's never going to be
made up for,
so you can either say
fuck it
or go with
your gut
and take ten for
the team
or more.

day one hundred and fifty eight.

finally picked up that
spider again
going
to conquer him
this time.

day one hundred and fifty seven.

mother of god,
or rather
wife of god,
and god mother?
i had a bilingual
lesson
on such things
this afternoon.
so interactively awkward
i couldn't eat my
soy dogs.

day one hundred and fifty six.

i think i'm going to start
guerilla crocheting
or rather, knitting
unless i can
pick up the skill
in between sociological
research methods
and astrology
(not to mention
the bakery burns
and the sacred drink).
or more likely
if i can find the right
benches
i would like to
guerilla cross stitch.
exexexex.

day one hundred and fifty five.

a new obsession to
be found,
though i know where
to find it.

day one hundred and fifty four.

to be more worried
about borrowed
wasted
food
than for
having a party and a piss
inside a place you
haven't been since the
twelfth grade.

day one hundred and fifty three.

haunted by the cake
and the dreams
of a borrow gone
wrong.

day one hundred and fifty two.

hiding is easy,

the only people 

who are bad at

hiding

are those who secretly

want to be found.

day one hundred and fifty one.

a foodland retiree,
surrounded by some
fake friends
and unknown
part timers
who just want a
piece of his
cake
and a cur of his
hours.

day one hundred and fifty.

please buy a membership,
so that when you are further
convinced to
buy more
you can save money while
you're spending
what you otherwise
wouldn't.