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Soda Pop Bubble FizzAt first I was just jokingand then I becameFor RealLooking up and asking"What the fuck is the deal?"I couldn't place my wager on a team,so I threw it up in the airand when the coins came back downit all became so clear.I couldn't just realize nothing,so I fabricated what was true.I thought I might be lying,So I changed to another point of view.Is this really happening?It absolutely is.Amazing how the bubbles appearspontaneouslyfrom the soda popbubblefizz.
standingI'm standing in the middle of a- what appears to be a meadow with no end in any direction. Only the horizon is a line in the distance. I would like to think that at the edge beyond my sight there is a mountain range that peeks its head into the clouds.The grass below my feet clings to me with a cool, but emotion filled energy that is described best as warmth. I'm afraid that if I open my eyes too wide, I will be sucked out of my dream reality into pure reality. I clench my hands into fists at my sides, arms spread like an angel about to take flight. Will I grasp a dandelion floating in the wind, or a blade of grass dried up less dense than the others? Will a strand of spider silk wrap around my palm and invite its creator to fit me a glove?The wind bounces off of the sides of my face, playfully, aerodynamically rounding the curves that are the essence of my creation. I wonder where each molecule goes, as when I shift my eyes to follow the breeze, it is nowhere to be found.There is n
Free FlightWe- you are sitting on your concrete saddle, a few feet away from me. It is windy, it is cold. Frigid. I am for once not tempted by your beauty, but for this moment for this memory, I do admire it. Your hair is drifting into the wind, some of it blown right across your face, over your diabolical grinning full-tooth award winning smile. On the other half of the saddle where I stand, is the roof of the building.We shoot the breeze with romance, words of friendship at a glance. You laugh at me but do so gently as to not cut my sensitive heart tissue. You laugh because when I join you on the stationary concrete horseback ride, I am scared for my life. I am scared that the wind will pick up and blow me to the other side, where I would be confused for a suicide.I envision myself tumbling down, shooting my arm out and catching the edge- only to hang by my fingers for seconds, if I am lucky, minutes before I fall to my death. Then, I envision myself standing on the roof again, instead of sit
VomitingI swallow to keep myself from vomiting at the scent of food which has for some reason lost its appeal. My nausea is overwhelming the part of me that usually overwhelms and behind the curtain that I pull in front of me is an ever so exhausted member of the human movie genre drama, an exaggerated Pinnochio like nose that never lied and, oh here comes the nausea again.When I finally cave in and lurch forth I feel my lunch come forth along with breakfast, brunch I'm getting thinner and suddenly stop to shield my eyes so my light capturing pupils don't do their dirty work. I jerk back and forth more or less I'm shaking, I'm the cadaver busting out on the dance floor with my new move rigor mortis, beware I've only displayed it two times and that was on a double dare, I was told its so tight its considered unfair.Projectile type not the type you get when you stick your finger down your throat, more like what you'd expect being sea sick three thousand hours holding it down at sea riding on t