Missy's House--An ode to the fact that I have never been in charge of anyone

She might remind you of a baby Kornicova
Beat you straight down like a kind of supernova
We’d all admit that she didn’t even know ya
Didn’t care or think nothing of ya

I dreamt of my best friend in a pool at night
And she was also there
Not quite as fair, but still floating there
With nothing but some leaves in her hair.

Coming down from something or another
I heard the wind stab, grab and otherwise drag
a couple syllables from her other mother
and there she stood with her hands around another

I held my drink and shifted eyes
Back to the baby under my thighs
And throughout the sass and broken down ass
I lied back in my chair and wrapped my arms around the cutest
Little thing I could find.
Right there, a piece of mind.

お正月おめでとう。

Alas,　here I am on New Year's Eve, blogging like a loser. Tonight I came back from Thailand and I ought to be at a big party in Tokyo, but instead, I chose to stay alone at Chu's and chill by myself. I'm terribly tired as I woke up at 5 am in order to make it to the airport on time. Besides that, I'm still not walking all that great since the motorbike accident, and I don't think an all night bender in the city would be the best thing for me right now. And lastly, I'm a bit uneasy about seeing someone who I had a rather strange hook-up with not long ago, and I don't think I'm in the right mood to feign nonchalance and しょうがないness.

I'm glad to be here, though, drinking alone in someone else's room. Since this will be the last night I'll be indulging in the spirits of freedom, it ought to be done exactly like this. It's not that bad though, since Chu left me a bowl to entertain my lonely mind for the night. She's pretty fucking awesome, but you may have already learned that from my Thailand blurb. I could probably hang out in her house for days as she's got tons of books, that I have already reorganized into a shelf of what I want to read and in what order. They mostly have to do with cooking, sex and Mary Jane. There's some alright fiction in there, as well, though. She's also got a bunch of good movies, a guitar and computer. Ya, I know, huh.

I briefly mentioned that this will be the last night in a while that I will be writing to you from a drunken Japan. My New Year's Resolution is going to see a bit crazy. Believe me, it took about three weeks for me to completely digest the fact that I was actually going to do this. In fact, the idea came from someone who I like to call my "monthly AA sponser". Well, actually, this friend is my closest neighbor in Japan who has partook in two, month-long sobriety stints that forbade the use of both alcohol and tobacco. When Dave told me his plan take the quitting game on for an entire year, I nearly fell off my bicycle. However, I came to realize that this is the perfect time to implement the purification plan that I've been meaning to do for quite some time now. I made a detailed list and chart of all the things that I want from Toby and 2008.

And here they are.

Hades

Chances are that you know me. Had we drinks together, then you must know me even better. If we get together purely for the sake of drinking, then we must be friends. Good friends. As I think back and conjure the faces and tales of the cohorts in my past, I grow full with nostalgia. By this stage in life, you might find that mannerisms repeat themselves. Obviously, the average lifetime spans far too long to forever continue to experience a constant state of novelty. All I mean to say is that there comes a time when the word "eventually" digs itself into your familiar vernacular. And "eventually", new acquaintances become what may seem like replacements to the old way, or a slow relay, of the dead.

This may seem depressing. But beware, vicissitudinous happens. Happens suddenly, like an uncomfortably, nescient dream. Like i said, it only seems depressing. While in reality, welcomed. Sure, people are people. Have been and will always be. But the advantage in recognizing people patterns becomes a quite delicious gift. I can recognize the shift of an eye, quite like the stain on your favorite shirt, much like the one I was responsible for. It remains quite the same, quite unchanged...again and again and again. "Master the seasons" cries the seasoned master, seized by disaster and everything after.

Baby the babies, lick all the maybes, straight toward the ladies.
There's the spaces between heaven, the earth and the places they call.......

Mayhem

A girl at two, sharing hue, who couldn't be enough for you
and at four, couldn't share, or even make a pair for you
at three, she's just a breeze
with whom your mom only would just compare
and at five, she's just alive
as are you, just like a honey hive

Then at six,
sees every bit

with no one in the shade
to share all the honey made.

If you're anything like me, then....

you'll wanna see what these babies can do. Will they free your mind, kill the blind or hide your hunger? A hunger for what, I'm curious to ask us both, you and I?Pretty little things can slice your in-betweens. And again, i might ask, of what exactly are you hungry for? Those things of Spring, that everyone sings and dances for
who loves it more...
who splashes spore....
Why is Spring such a special, luscious and beautiful thing?
I find it such a bore!
As if digging through the floor
in hopes of finding a trace of steel, or gold, a whore, or more...........

What else more can babies girgle for?