What I need to write and what I need to do
I told myself: “I should write, I should paint ever damn empty sheet with paint that dripped through cut film stencils and poke all my sheets with black-black ink.”
I didn’t though, hehe, I just drove between southern california and the the central valley (looking for my family, ignoring the money I don’t have but need, swooning over a guy who plays with nonverbal gestured signs—“o’speak to me”).
Speak to me like you want to, as you want to.
Haha, and then sometimes I just can’t speak. Like when my boss wrapped his finger around my fat tongue and said: “This shouldn’t be happening—I need a team—This is a new year, with different people and different students.” I kinda just stared at him. I saw his sideburns flex up past his jaw right when his grass stained eyes arched into his eyebrows—up. He kinda yelled at me and us, but kinda not her. And then that bone that broke his solid face which lifted the sideburns went back to sleep.
The kids(students) are funny though.
Now I’m chilling in the library tutoring a pretty cool kid and sending text messages to a furry fish.
—Good Vague Shit
