reminders bijou a book of matches the guns of brixton god, why do i drive by your house every fucking day? how does that help me? it's not even on the way. 010626 ... bijou yeah. still driving by every day. it's almost on the way. the ramp off highway 50 is closed anyways. 010723 ... the clash when they kick in your front door how you gonna come, with your hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun? 010723 ... soda pop fuck you litte versions of ourselves remind us of who we used to be 010723 ... god haiku or type strength in numbers. even if confined to mind 010801 ... Wasandru Octillions of streaming digits, a web, surely! Octillions and octillions whose meaning is lost on all but a dozen (at most). My games, my little quips, perhaps they will strike meaning in but one or two others, just as I have been joy-stricken from curiousities surely overlooked by the majority of visitors here. I, with my zillion solipsisms... my hall of endlessly reflecting mirrors. How do I look? I die and am born again in the same junky implosion. (Et tu, Brutus) 060611 ... ever dumbening thanks for the continuing, and often clustered, reminders of what a fucking loser i am. 110511 ... lostgirl 100 of them, at least...and the gnawing, raw pit in my gut leaves me wondering what i am doing wrong 110512 what's it to you? who go blather from