dear joe...

schmoe.

i have no courage to tell you any of this, for real. and you only read this when we're together and i'm working on it. it's been a while since i've written anything. but now, YOU are ultimately why i'm writing now. what a world, what a world...

you hold me in ways that make me float. and you shouldn't. and i don't know why. i don't want to question you, but do YOU even know why?

signed,
confused schmoe

kids...

"drugs is NOT the answer.
of course, unless the question is,
'what is not the answer?'
then, the answer IS drugs!"
i've been laughing at this since wednesday, when the funkiest munky of all times told me he heard it on the radio. that's the kind of mood i'm in. straight-out gufus. currently, this mood is something i want to cling onto for a while. lots has been going on in my gray matter.