Throwing Desks At Wolves

Did you see the corners of my mouth turn up for a second today? Cause I caught you looking.

Sometimes I wish I could re-engineer the path from my heart to the tip of my tongue and let my head have a shot at it. Lately it feels like every bad decision is put on file for later viewing. Mapquest your way back to me, take a turn for the worse and then continue for .5 miles. You make me want to file a restraining order against myself.

My dog is purple after spilling a grape soda on himself. He then ate The Tropic of Cancer by Miller. Paperback, so I guess it went down easier.

Today I thought about walking into traffic. Not to die but because I am fascinated by injury. It's probably good that "those" thoughts are so fleeting.

What are they going to arrest me for? Being awesome?

I woke from this dream this morning: I was riding a motorcycle in the desert with this wolf jumping next to me the whole time. It could jump really far. Then my dad was there and he said the wolf was bad news and couldn't stay. I lost it and picked up one of those desks with the table attatched (you know like from little house on the prairie) and asked him if he wanted to die. He said yes. So I threw the desk and he said no he didn't right before he died. I then woke up and brushed my teeth but the toothpaste tasted like it had gone bad. Then I woke up for real.

Kind of crazy.

I had to call my dad and make sure I wasn't throwing desks at him over wolves. You know.

When you are thinking about the first place where it all went wrong- please keep me in mind.

watch: barfly
read: death in installments

nostalgicfordisaster

ihavecodedmessagesforyou.aretheygettingthrough.