There goes my hero..

asjkdlas;kl.
you don't say?

SOMEONE HELP!!
I'm afraid of falling clouds.

So anyways, I've been thinking about our little fascination with drilling up through the skies. There's stars, planets, asteroids, dinosaurs and comets up there, twinkling silently by themselves in the darkness!
And we're little astronauts, building little spaceships to sail through space,
all in the name of meeting these pretty places and keeping them company.
But wait!

We've missed something- something important
Important?
IMPORTANT! fuck.

We can't hug stars from spaceships. What sort of human goes to a lonely soul without arms to hug them with? Unable to kiss? Unable to shake hands! We're locked in little space-boxes soaring through God's fuzzy navel like the little geniuses we are and yet we forgot to bring arms big enough to hug with.
Too sad.

Well besides the foolish mistakes we all make in unison, let's talk about the mistakes I make individually.
Or the non-mistakes I made..
but would non-mistakes be a mistake? Because I've failed to fail, therefore I've made a mistake in not making mistakes.
Which I suppose is wrong, right?
Hmm.


It's parents weekend here, or something like that, and mines came over for a bit. We chilled for a quick minute and they left back to their hotel for the night. I'm still not sure how things are supposed to unfold for this weekend. What to do, etc etc.
Most likely I'll just chill and think like I normally do
think about things like astronauts riding in trains or ant empires
how perfect that one person walks
how interestingly silly and cute that other person's eyes and face are
or about you scruffy cats.

Whichever one though, I'll be thinking for sure.


What an odd fellow! That boy there. He puts on a suit and hat, at 8 in the night.
But he has no job.
No girl to date.
No funeral to attend.
This boy dresses up at 8 in the night and walks over to a bench and sits. Just sits, sketching god knows what.
Does he not know that nobody can even tell how well put his clothes are when it's so dark?

Sounds like a silly boy, that's true
but don't you think that maybe he does have a job-
Maybe he does have a date-
Maybe he is mourning at a funeral

Maybe he is doing something rather important at that bench right now in the bountiful fields of his mind. Attending a funeral, running through the fields with his love, fueling a memory or building a dream. Maybe right now instead of sitting at a bench he's on a rocket ship, three hours from Mars, planning to crash land into the Queen's bedroom, or he's trying to think of all the silly things he'd put on a silly planet if he only had 6 days to do so.


And we are sitting here, watching him, wondering what the hell he is doing.. and he's out there dancing on Mars with penguins, Zeus and her. I don't know about you sir, but I'd be sitting there on that bench with him if it meant that I could
see what he sees. Feel what he feels. Her what he hears, and dance.
Just fucking dance. and sing. and cry, even when we're happy, just because we can.

But still, I agree. He's a pretty weird cat, that boy. Because he's wearing jeans with that suit.




orly?



But really now
This buggy blogger is pissing me off to no ends.
For it changes the font sizes on its own will. (I chose Smallest size, Georgia, for this and the first thing I wrote was undercased.)
Sincerely,
Your name.