happy canasta

2006-12-24, 10:22 p.m.

sitting in a chair, you ask me if im ok and i wonder what the perfect answer will yield. lying is just another stale attempt at a guilt trip, but i still mumble out something about life's indifference.

regression is an interesting state of being. your cheeks puff and the hair on your head becomes a mess of blonde and brown. drums are heard in the distant speaker room, cubicles filled juvenile dance routines, late night type-confessions, christmas certainly came late as a 22 year old.

i want to daydream for a little while, like i did this morning when the sun was setting up stage. i want to daydream like the neon trailor park sign that drapes a yellow glow on the sidewalk and manicured grass. mostly, i would like to daydream that some new chrysallis will see my fucked up and wasted grin, and paint it like a five year old would, wide eyed and bright.