Life or death!? Fuck that. It's life AND death, all the time.

(listen, listen, listen, listen...here's what we are so far.)

Glance. Last quarter and a bonafide philosopher. Partitioned all up and on purpose:

Two slices for two jobs; sometimes grateful, slitted eyes of (officially) fallen families; a part already off somewhere like London--blushing for the cliche but determined anyway; a tinytiny part wanting to wonder 'what if', but shutting it the fuck up; my spiritual side alone and quiet, my mortal fate bent over and cackling; a big heavy chunk for classes; for to grin&leer&sail&write&blank&fuck&sculpt&laugh&trip up, apparently; a memory like the spin of potterizing; a fantastical slice, dedicated just to sleep!; kudos for analytical thought; a stench like stale shampoo pretending.

Do you know what i mean, jelly bean? All there is to do is to walk slowly in between them and sing loudly. But i want you to believe me when I say these things. (God knows why.)

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (2/10/07)