i need a spare blue body for emergencies

i can never decide how i feel about blank sheets of paper. and how i feel about the fact that i am a little bit paranoid. or the fact that i worry about what i think of what i think. i like that whole saying about dreams within dreams because that would be so much easier but instead i am stuck in my life, which is not a dream because my brain couldn’t make something like this up. it’s too talented.

it really surprises me sometimes what people think of me. of my age, of my personality, of my decisions. of the words i write when i can’t speak. it makes me laugh. it makes me feel quite interesting, like i’m some mysterious character when really all i am most days is artificial spunk and a sort of dreary and redundant sense of sarcasm at the entire universe. or maybe at is the wrong word to use, maybe with would be better. a dreary and redundant sense of sarcasm with the entire universe. like i am just taking the words right out of her mouth (can a universe have a mouth? i am curious now. i won’t be able to sleep tonight wondering if the universe has a mouth. and what if it does? what is inside the mouth? i don’t know anyone who just has a mouth, they have teeth and a tongue. and most tongues have taste buds. what does the universe like to taste? has the universe ever had her first kiss? and if she did, was she up all night wondering how she tasted just like i am up all night now wondering if she has a mouth? maybe i just want to taste the universe and have her taste me back. except i don’t think that shall ever work because i am too straight to be locking lips with anything i refer to as female, even something as beautiful as the universe.

so i guess we shall both be up all night tonight thinking about each other and now i feel vaguely victorious to have spread my insomnia, so perhaps this rabbit trial was not in vain.)

anyway. i was supposed to be short and biting, but instead my fingers are out of control and just made me miss my usual 11:11 prayertime. i guess i’ll just go write a letter to a friend warning her to steer clear of fate and then think about kissing a bit more and count the seashells i have been saving up, and then i will probably talk to him until my eyelids collapse and wake up the moment we say goodnight.

p.s. i think the universe would taste like mangoes and smoke.


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