unedited shite #348

SMILE! (it might never happen)

SMILE! (jesus loves you)

SMILE! (it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile)

bollox bollox bollox I SHOUT IN RETURN, even if I did get my capitalisation muddled, who are you anyway, you cynical whore? Words that mean so little that they should be annotated and edited and then annotated and edited again until some semblance of conformity has been imposed on them. WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO with my evening when I've spent the evening housechoring while others did something less boring with someone they find more interesting than anyone else in the whole wide worldwide web? There is nothing left but to mess up a blank page and hope that somebody notices the wonderful clean odour in the same way that they notice my wonderfully bright jumpers and intellectual sparkle.

If I say that word again, I'll have said it too many times. Who reads it anyway? Even if you read all of these words they'll fly right through you like radio waves and cosmic radiation, they don't come structured like a gnossienne or a gymnopedie but I wish they did sometimes. Such music can touch me so that I feel my soul pulling on my tear glands, and it's a strange feeling and one that I can't grasp.

After the mad dutch woman finished giving me her immediate impressions of Maria's well thought-out expressions, I was left wondering if there was indeed any sense in what she had said, and then everything became even more confused when the question was posed:

"Do you think she still has sex, at her age?"

And I had no idea what to say think or do but I laughed all the way to the next exhibition.

Words fall out of my fingers all day long, and you don't give a fuck: you'll just watch them fall.