you see, because sometimes I do, but I’m not, I just have to stay organized in the nano macro cosmos and positively, pleasurably and productively, and I’ve always used the internet and writing, i had a “blog” on the iNet when i had to input it as text in the code for my website. My mom read it. Which is good, because that’s who i write it for besides myself.
My parents read my diaries, our mail, my dad recorded our phone calls … Yes, I’m always playing to the audience, even if it’s just God Almighty himself. And, no, i can never dance like no one is watching, i know someone always is. Like my online writing. It was always easy for me to get my thoughts out in writing so that’s what i did. Just like i do now, only now I’ve got all these organizational tools and swype and oh my how fun are the words that just leap in my head.
I often lasso an idea someone else thought, like Word Press here and their design schemes, the structure of which probably evolving out of myspace and all those customizeable code generators (i sometimes so miss those nights), and so now i just express.
I wonder what my dead sister would say. I wonder if she’d say that 121st day in jail took the chip off my shoulder for good. I do know it made my soap box in a shape that would nicely fit in any ticket that would want to take me away.
In every facet of my human occupation as my daughter’s mom, i still share on the internet to talk to my mom and dad, mostly, yet more and more, i share so that, if she should ever so chose to read what i wrote or hear what i said or see what i did and still play the games of hide and seek, even if i go and can’t get back on that rocket ship, she can still play and #giggl with me, if even with a tear just as i do when i try to be as nice as possible, though i don’t know why. This planet is really quite mean. And #fuqafukushima stupid.
A rocket must have a round trip planned, just in case her threat to have grand babies and vow never to leave earth (she saw “interstellar”) is too longstanding for an impatient mother in prison on a planet where it can be so hard to breath. Day 121. Fuqrs.
if you ever want to meet me, the best thing to say first is, “hi. i met you on the internet,” then i know you more likely than not, mean me no harm. I’ll do the same, so you know it’s just me in 3D and, like on the iNet, we can only take the moment as it …….
comes cums appears loads downloads uploads emails tweets tags or merely happens to be right here publishing now, tag l8r.