When I'm Sixty Four

I'll be a crazy cat lady. There is no doubt in my mind of that inevitable fact. I should start making a list of names for my various cats. It'll be fun.

Maybe I'll spice it up by playing strip Bingo at the gentlemen's club down the road.

But my cats will be my life. I'll probably be some creepy old woman furry *shudder*


It's my 64th post. I can't wait until 69!

Day Tripper

playing in the background, she tells me I'd be better singing.

He told me Beatles songs don't sound right without my voice. I don't think he realizes what that means to me.

Another Sunday where I see someone's secret splashed across the page, and I wish it were mine. Today more than ever. But it wouldn't work anyway. So I'm glad that it's not.

Basketball games are infinitely better than football games. Just saying.

"When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide, then I stop and I turn and I go for a ride, when I get to the bottom then I'll see you again, yeah. Do you, don't you want me to love you?"

Then you think it's over... But it's not.

Yin and Yang

There's a certain clarity that comes from balance. Not that I know much about balance. My life is so one-sided that I'm surprised I function at all. But I try for her, always for you. No'mo soul mates, wouldn't you know it?

I look forward to tomorrow with a rush of eager anticipation.

No 'mo

So, you're the reason I get up in the morning, just so you know. Without your words and your laughter to guide me through my day I'd wander deeper into myself, certain of the validity of the feeling no one cares about me. You love me because you want to, not because you have to. And it means so much to me. It'd be futile to try to explain how much.

I hope we do get those Tarot cards and learn to read them correctly. I hope we do develop our psychic abilities and learn to make our own luck. Maybe this brand of alchemy will become our new magic.

I cried

then again, I always want to.

I'm not usually so emotional, in reality. I just sit there and let the feelings, or lack thereof, wash over me and I feel too light and lost to be anchored to the ground, and so my head fills up with tears but my stingy eyes find no joy in shedding them. So I sit, and I don't cry, and I think and I wonder.



I wake up every morning, exhausted, with a question on the tip of my tongue. I look in the mirror and ask myself the question. I stump myself every time.

What do I have to live or?

And it's not in a suicidal way, and it's not in a death wish way. It's just that I can't answer the question, day after day.


It's moments like these, the times between action and sleep, when the phone rings and you're not sure if it did, where a cat hisses and it's almost mistaken for a person.


Who can we ask now, please?

I'm a policeman, she's an old Western marshal
long neck double barrel shot gun
sleep tugging at my eyelids now

Good night, dear.

tchochke

lolwut?

Trotsky?

lolumad?

Sharpie words all over my body, spelling out late night conversations
hunger reins, restlessness, I want to walk and smoke and smoke and walk forever

Good Day, Sunshine

by the Beatles, endlessly circling 'round in my head.
They have a song for everything, wouldn't you know it

I didn't expect it, how stupid of me
Of course it would happen, how naive of me
To expect to be free when I said I would be,
the audacity

Audio city

I looked at baby pictures of myself today.
I was so cute, I wish I could go back in time and smother myself with love.

I wonder what little Me would think of big Me.

PlayRadioPlay!

We've been searching the sky for answers, I look to the stars so that I feel small and my problems don't seem so big, buh-buh-buh-big, oh.