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Because im ridiculous and shouldnt spam the crap out of the other place with my junk, when i could just hide all here in one thread. Feel free to post your own obsessive compulsive journal entry-like, purple prose here too if you want, lolol.

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I am obsessive compulsive about my writing. So would that mean everything I write I obsess about?

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If I don't even reread what I write why write or expect others to read for that matter... not that that stops my fingers from tapping these keys

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@ lady- yeah. Im pretty sure anyway... Well, for me its a surety, lolol


@john, thats the question of the ages... I dont knowwhy, but we do anyway, lol

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You're junk ha. I like to separate my junk, poems in one place stories in another, inviting others but secretly making it all about my junk, hahaha

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lol, i like to keep it all together, so i can go obsess over it at random without hunting for it. I sometimes stash it away in threads i know will drown tho. +

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Originally Posted by John Dohnut:
If I don't even reread what I write why write or expect others to read for that matter?

Because its a forum M'Lord...

*Bows

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so where is all the crap writing?

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i know. Even myspace has remained mostly clean of it, lolol Ive been so dang busy lately... *likes* i will back to normal after the holidays i bet...

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Originally Posted by Maureen Braman-Eckerle:
so where is all the crap writing?

poetry for the common man


Great Dane dumping
steaming pile of ink?
stick is the Fools pen
concrete poetry, stinks

passers by grumpy
tripping terminology
scholars soliloquies slips
on a simple mans funny ****

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moving right along...

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I knew I should not have looked
but my obsession drove me to
and the compulsion to click again
made my stomach try to rebel
for the laughing pile of poo
churned its curds and whey
and not in a good style
but the one that burns
as it sat and on the way out.

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years change nothing you know. The heart doesnt forget some things- like riding a bike. Suddenly your all wrapped up in that energy again, that warm glow. Its like no time passed. And im still 16... IT was always there tho. Theres was always that electrical pulse. LAst night- i was surrounded them engulfed even. memories of the first time my first baby kicked inside me. memories of 4th of julies in t-top black camaros. Head thrown back, and the scent of leather and car and weed... I remember ones head laying  in my lap, my finger all in his golden hair, while the other packing the bong after our freinds limo ride birthday. 16 years ago? *eyes fill up* and my love for my boys has never wavered.

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THAT"s Our Sama!

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Everything is upside down. Suddenly, im not the responsible one. I am drifting through life. Unordered. I handles the important things now its all a waiting game, and i am so sick of waiting. I dont know. Im not a very apocalypsey person, but my life has been turned upside down, inside out, and shaken  around... At least i have a plan.