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My Blogs


tron other people's kids. - Subscribe
thank you for bringing your precious bundle of joy to my house. I should have expected this when I invited you for dinner.

Wow. They scream that much. Honey, see we don't want kids any time soon. What? This is good. Thats excellent. Honey we really do not want kids any time soon.

Ok, lets have dinner. Where do you put him? I don't know. I don't have anywhere. Ok just on the couch. (mind he doesn't spew on my blue couch... white baby chuck doesn't come out so easily). Smile.

Oh aren't you cute. He did a shit that big huh? Ah, thats what the noise is. You want attention. Adult conversation anyone? Yes, he is cute. Yes you are tired. No, not much to say? Ok.

You don't want to catch a movie or something? No worries. I understand. You have to get the little angel back to bed (seriously). And I'll see you again soon. Maybe we could go out on the bikes, start looking around for a sitter. Drive safe. See you later.

I need a drink.
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Mood: torn

tron going to the city Jul 1st, 2008 10:52:01 pm - Subscribe
When I go to the city
Its to purge the smell of eucalypts and wood smoke
From my memory and replace it
With grit, dirt and something else…
I need to remember why I’m not here.

When I go to the city, I need to smell
The bad breath coming from the trams
The stink of rage
The apathy that leaks from every pore of
The crush around me,
I need to smell vicinity.

I need to smell urine
And shit
And booze
And stress
And overuse
And waste
And forgetting
And losing
And wishing
And hoping…
I need to smell dreams being born
And death.

When I go to the city, I forget the exhilarating
Permanent marker smell
Of fast car petrol
And late night binging.
I need to forget my own smell lingering
Amongst the people I brush against
When I’m out of my mind.

When I enter the city
When the city enters me
I need to block out its pheromones
And not fall in love.
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Mood: fragile

tron el strangeo to the day Jul 28th, 2008 6:20:22 am - Subscribe
Today has been a strange day.

A strange week.

A continuing, developing, misanthropic sense of self. Another dialogue with no one. More strange dreams. More events. More work. Wonderings. Present de-aspirations. Apathy/Contentment. Illness creeping up... flu kind not anything else.

University ever onward. Weariness. Excitement. Something to care about. Hiatus. Industry. Caution. En Guarde.

Begin again...

ad infinitum.
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Mood: argumentative