Monday, June 15, 2009

Off with your head

I smell some kind of lighter fluid, or maybe W2-40, you know that stuff that grease things. We had to call the manager, but when I turned off the air conditioner, and opened all the windows the smell went away.
Still our Apt. Manager is coming up to smell the apartment. Now the smell is gone, and I will just explain the smell, and how I turned off the air, and opened all the Windows, and the smell stopped wafting in, in large amounts.
My theory is someone was using W2-40 in their apartment with the windows closed, and it came through the air conditioning vents, and into our apartment. People are real idiots. Using flammable fluids, in small windowless places, and not realizing that everyone who has their air conditioner on is getting the smell of the gas.
Either that it or its another attempt on our lives. If it is, this person really has it in for us. I could see why they would have it in for my dad, he's racists, and doesn't hide it. Like the white trash that he is. Sorry Father, but you need to open your mind. Please I beg of you. Read books, think outside the box, for good sake try pot. You beg for me to get clean, yet you go out and get so drunk you cannot walk at least 4 times a week. Hypocrite.

Okay about the gas, its coming from our air conditioner for sure. I shut off the air, and opened all windows, including the front door, and the patio door which causes the air to flow straight out of the apartment, and about three minutes after opening the doors and windows and Turing off the air the smell of gas is gone.
I made sure by closing the doors and windows again, and turning the air back on, and it took but five minutes for the house to fill up with gas smell. So really turning off the air is what needs to happen. Which sucks, because even now at 10pm its 85 degrees outside, and there is nothing but a slight breeze every fifteen minutes. Plus its humid, I can tell its going to rain by looking at the clouds coming over us from the sea.
Right about now, Wisconsin, Washington, I don't care as long as I get out of this tropic air. I was not made for this tropic air. Perhaps if I wasn't on Methadone, and in shape, I could endure the heat and humidity. Unfortunately unlike two summers ago when I lived here, and went swimming every single day, and we didn't have a car, so if I wanted to go somewhere I had to catch the bus, which meant sitting outside getting used to the air. I was also 50 to 60lbs lighter, and could wear a bikini. My legs didn't chafe when I walked around in a skirt, or in my swim suite. My arms weren't the size of some bull dyke. Nothing against bull dyke's, or more male like women who are gay. I like the ladies too, but I like the skinny lipstick lesbian. I know that is so Politically incorrect, but fuck it. I used to be a skinny lipstick lesbian with a girl I saw on the side when I was in a relationship with Pete.
Where ever I end up next, I hope that I look at it through a different perspective, a perspective that keeps my spirits up, and my hopes and dreams alive.
No more idols, just music I love. No more scenes, I'll make my own. For Christ Sake I am who I am, and I lived through alot of shit, I've put my body through even more shit, and still I'm here to write this post.
Then I go and read a post from a better a writer, and my hopes and dreams are crushed. Must find way to figure out how to stop that. Realize that I have potential, all I need is someone to teach me, or perhaps make up my own style of writing. As long as I convey the story, and the reader is taken in by it, then for Christ sake, whats there to change except my sentence structure, and my own style. Wait I already have my own style. I'll never get rich doing what I love, but fuck being rich, all it would do is save me from having to struggle to get high. I'm poor and sad, without methadone lovelorn. When I'm in love is when I write the shittiest poetry there is.

To every writer out their who doesn't believe in themselves, who thinks it all been said, and its all been done, show them we have more to give. To those who think we must constrain to societies idea of a successful human being, scream FUCK YOU, go back to your suburban lifestyle, and your wife you'll most likely divorce. Buy alot of shit just to carry around baggage you don't need. Off with your head.

We aren't here to build roads, and skyscrapers, we are here to enjoy life, run through Fields of flowers in the summer, and jump in piles of leaves in the fall, make snowmen in the winter, and love yourself, and everyone else, even if they don't see things your way. Even if they hate you.

Bye Kurt!

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