Gentle

Leaves of Summer

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Pine Hill, New York is a town worth visiting.  I am visiting Rusty, Chelsea and Gina, with Marilyn.

Good.

Am here for happiness.  Will soon return home. 

Apparently life has kindness.  I hope you will be happy.  This is hacking at pain.  Doesn't work.  Just live.

Arizona's immigration law is a horrible act with

Happy and Thankful

Today is a great day.

I am not going to New York, thereby not risking my life or upsetting people who have my best interests at heart.

I found out about a Tombstone Steampunk Group, thanks to Chelsea.

I am not going back to being a man.

My mother is my mother, not someone I carry around in my head as a memory or a simulacrum.

I vote for Sahfik

Apparently the look in my eyes is scaring the woman next to me (in the library).  I find that bothersome. 

If I ever become patient and kind, then maybe I will be strong enough to try being home (peaceful).

You know that when the love of reading is becoming the ho(p)e to write a book that your strengths are becoming lude.

Tension is the product of listening and ick.

You are the only lip that makes my hopes a rock.

As always, you cannot understand the Efforts of my being without knowing that you are a person.

I cannot make you change.

I cannot make you change.

Chemical Poem is over: 

Mechanization brings lists.

You are ill.  You are poor.  You are a joke.

I am drugging this person with malevolence.

I must stop.  Feel and play a way to people.

You are a crazy woman.

This is only my place in the lip.

I have given you what is mine.  Now I must tell you that your dreams make me sore.

I must say that I have thought for a long time that I am poor because of being flawed.

This means that I am human ....

?

As you continue to bring yourself to make happiness a place that all are welcome, remember that I am peaceful in order to let myself be a clay open asshole.

Treat me like this and I will make you your own hole.

Thank you so much.

Yours,

Julia the Flip Murray

Map

Yes, after twenty years of "change," I am still angry with my mother.

What's the use?

Does this mean another thirty years of therapy, assuming I live that long?

Illness is at pants.

Don't Assume -- A Dream

Embers creep this chalk into omens.

I render this pain as beast.

You who can like this, are famous for needing a strong omen.

Leave with your ache.



Yell Make mental.

You know that you can write when there is a people that knows happy \embolism.

Tacky.

Sanity

I am what I am.

Talents.

Having lots of happiness.
Doing what is needed.

Listen:

A long time ago, I was in this very galaxy in which we apparently live, and I found that no one needed the malevolence or the happiness that brought me a sense of good.   I needed a sense of good because I had lost my moorings years before that in the course of pretending to be someone I was not.  I turned to "good" because I had no productive part in society other than being one who did not have a place.

I had come from a family of order only to find freedom in privilege.  I was not particularly intellectual but I found a great deal of self-importance and self-righteousness in having as my mission the reform of certain manifestations of being in accordance with what I thought was justice.  I did not see why anyone should have to do what they did not want to do for someone else in order to survive.  I did not see why anybody should have anything from taking advantage of others.  In retrospect I can see that I was merely disguising for myself my own emergence as hopeful but without any justification for it.

So I was isolated from my upbringing, myself, and those around me by ambitions that I fulfill the great call for democracy and socialism, in other words become another party hack/dictator.

Men who change their hopes and their relationships in order to become happy are not bad people.

I simply have not made anyone believe that I can give of my own great inner resources for anyone else.

Being a woman is all for effort.

I am not delightful.  I am home.

Thank you for knowing that you have your honesty.

Always a poem,

Julia

(Mick Rome)

Ask and you love.

Chack

Lest those of you who follow this blog closely believe that being a moron is any good, please note that I try very much to have what is free.  This means that when I make you feel like I'm honest, that in fact I am trying to avoid having feelings.

What feelings are these?

Issues with niceness; Cruelty against my hopes for love; Sappy lefts.

You can live with your place in this world.  I am aware that I am simply trying to be fearsome, like a combination of Godzilla and King Kong without even much Gamera.

This fearsomeness is to me the only way I can let anyone be at peace.  I threaten because I suck.

Teach me the way you have accepted that you cannot be free, in other words, acting according to your desires, and I will try to live within the bounds of social expectation.

I am angry in that I am a pest, not a protagonist, as some of you are.

Be nice, ALWAYS.

You must remember this, a kiss is but a kiss, a sigh is....  As time goes by.

Since you need me to let go, mass pain is not shaman.

Mao

OK.  I am going to try to write some snail mail letters, so I won't spend much time on this.

Poems that I sat on:

God was needed;
You are a lentil;
Feelings pep;
Leaning to priests.

Good thing that I have someone to give men.  Oh, won't do that.

Yes, there is a desk.

Yours,

Check

Rats

Lousy Goddamn screwy people with their desires for their own lives and people who respect and esteem them.  Why I've gotten along for years without being respectful to others and you know how I'm doing.

Secondly,

There's good that has resulted from hoping that someone is there who will love me and care for me without question.  That is, I just love needs like laughter and creativity and love.  You know, if I really care to be sentimental (which I am) I could list right here all the people who have helped make me like people for their strength and not their cruelty.

But I would rather be happy.]

Me
Dream
That
You
Change

Me alive to know your belief in good.

This is just another way of eating cruelty for poems.  I'm rather sick of it.  This cruelty is often my own.

Leave or not?

I know that when you tried to be happy you were trying that place because it was needed.

I sick because I like running at a star.  She pulled hope and good because it was me that needed a rope.

I write this because I am a round lack of saintliness.

Read me -- destiny failed me for hostility and markers.  You feel supper.

Didn't care about AC (would have meant helping myself be happy).

Dumped on Anger.

Created lazy fists.

Rats.

Miss Tick is loud and round;
Miss Tack is round and proud;
Miss Tuck is aching for jack.

Tales of Crack.



I read when I teach.  I live when you are.

Lousy people.