Cheers

Time to babble randomly, on and on and on a whim, like a cyclone spinning out of control. Margin to margin, circles and doodles philosophizing about philosophers and juicy red apples with large happy stickers. Write my dear red blood color dripping waterfall chaotically, nonsensically, impatiently waiting for the happy that is glamorously terribly deconstructive but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You promise a friend, you love an inanimate object and shed your affections on yourself. Question everything. Let’s go alphabetically: Animosity brewing contented drowning entrance from graphically hypocritically inanimate. Jovial knowledge looming momentarily nocturnal over people quizzically remembering solitude. Timeless use venturing wanting x-rays yearningly zoned. Fuck making sense. Dear Easter Bunny, have you seen Santa lately? I heard he was cheating on Mrs. Clause with the Tooth Fairy. A beautiful lady is she with those glorious glimmering wings. Charlie told me Santa felt justified because he thought he saw the Mrs. With Peter Pan, but we all know Peter is to vain to be with a large woman like that. But don’t tell the children, it will make them confused and sad. I saw the elves yesterday, throwing candy canes, diabolical laughter rippling through their cave. It made me crave a mint in an orange put together in its acidy way. I then ignored what I saw and walked away, chewing on my lip and humming a tune, inhaling a fragrance that sends my senses blissfully askew. I met the carrot on my walk back to the castle where I would call to Rapunzel and she would tell me about her dream as she waits for her prince to come. Poor dame was so desperate to escape that she planned to have the prince get her down, cut off all her hair and go find the true love of her life, for she had already known she hated the prince who would only rescue her for his selfish glory. I sat for an hour and talked with the carrot. Meaningless gossip but it cheered the poor carrot so that he was almost unaware of the hungry rabbit sneaking up behind him, if he rabbit hadn’t opened its mouth, and the words “what’s up doc?” emerged, the poor carrot would no longer be with me. Though I admit by the end of our conversation I was awfully hungry.