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rejectomorph

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Sucky Weekend [Aug. 7th, 2011|08:46 pm]
rejectomorph
The bushes in the front yard are getting spiky on top. It takes a couple of months after they've been trimmed until they start sporting this punky look. It always makes me nostalgic for the '80s. A few more weeks and they will begin rounding out again. That doesn't make me nostalgic for anything in particular. A few more weeks after that and their sides will bulge out and block the walks. That always makes me nostalgic for the time when I could walk by them without getting poked and having bits of spider web bushed onto my clothes. Then it's time to trim them again. It's a stretched out monotony.

I didn't wake up until after three o'clock in the afternoon Saturday, and I'm still trying to catch up with the time I lost to excess sleep. Well, it wasn't excess sleep, as early morning drama had prevented me from getting to sleep on time, so despite waking late I was actually short of sleep yesterday and consequently got nothing done all evening. I still feel vaguely groggy now. My late dinner will probably make me even groggier.

The bank's ATM gave me a bad time, the stores were zoos, and I forgot to buy three things instead of my usual one thing. Plus they were out of the cat food I was going to buy, so I have to arrange to get some by Tuesday or I'll have five angry cats to deal with. I might as well have spent the whole weekend drunk.




Sunday Verse



Morning


by Conchitina Cruz


You never know when somebody will walk away from you on a bright day on a busy street, never looking back and

you cannot believe the slow disappearance, cannot believe what is moving away from your reach until the busy street no longer needs its presence to look the same, because it is the same.

And the city offers you its fruits and fish, and the churchgoers lift their veils as they step out in the open

and you know the picture is incomplete but it can stand for itself

and who are you to ask for more, who are you to insist on hunger?

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