Love Post

Love this picture so much, decided to put it up again, because I enjoy looking at it so much. It’s full of innocence and love – unlike the downward trajectory most take after that. Just full of Love. How refreshing in these times of Trumpism and other crazy global leaders? So I’m just gonna keep looking at this picture until I get tired of looking at it, to remind me what many of us were once like. 

Conversations With My Hound … About Brooms, Motorcycles, Witches, And Caffeine 


BARKING

How many times have I told you not to bark at Black Motorcycles?

How many?

BROOMS

“Leave the fucking broom alone!  I need it. It’s my … 

Transportation. 

I’m a witch!”

PROCRASTINATION

“I know. I know. I’ve got to unpack. I get it. Thank you.”

OMG

“OMG. The World Fell Asleep! TELL it to wake-up!  Now. I got buses to catch, papers to collect!”

WORDPRESS 

“I can’t deal with these formatting issues anymore. I can’t. They’re driving me mad! Talk to them.”

MORNINGS

“TOO fucking early to talk about anything. No more barking!”

Rotten Luck in Love


QUESTION

What do you do?
When you have rotten luck in Love?

ANSWER

You find someone whose luck is equally rotten to yours, you become good friends, and you commiserate with one another, eternally, but you never lay hands on one another. 

Lover Report Cards. “The Misfortune Abounds” Volumes

So.
Emotionally, we’re talking about 3rd Grade. 


So.

The Reluctant Lover must be approached carefully, lest they disappear.  Then, it sucks. Cause know ahead of time you will spend your entire life looking for them.
Thus you require skill in thinking Strategically (not your best subject) and Planning. 


Teacher’s Assessment:


 

“Shows reticence.

Needs LOTS of encouragement.

Else, probably will never Dance with you.”

 

I have unsuccessfully tried to kill my love tree again. It refuses to die. Repeatedly.  

I have this Love Tree, which I neglect continually, hoping it will die soon, but it never does.  


I sit there in the Dark with It hoping it will die. 

Die! Love Tree. 



I am serenading Death, but Death doesn’t want me. 


At all.  

I’m crushed. 

Sketches in Hot Pink Ink

(WHERE DID THE FUCKING TABS GO, WORDPRESS?)

It’s ALWAYS  about WORDPRESS. CAN’T resist hogging the stage)

image

SETTING

LATE AT NIGHT.

Chilly, wintry and very damp.

Trees are furious tonight.

Rustling like crazy.

Time starts to feel different.
It becomes random suddenly.

But you are centered and fixed, untouched by what passes before you, snippets of conversations between lovers and clandestine affairs from the past.

Very old ones.

Very old.

As old as old is

Bad Love Story Endings

Ok. 

So you’re crazy in love with someone. And they’re crazy in love with you.  
However. 
There is way too much hesitation and feelings of vulnerability.  
And that totally sucks. 
So you have to find another way to get there. 
So you sit in your car on a Saturday morning, the sky above your top shelf, and listen to MARIA CALLAS do CARMEN. 
She makes the birds chirp.  

Perhaps she’ll tell you why …
LOVE SUCKS


Perhaps because eventually it makes the flesh burn.