carlos... i fuckin' love you even more you crazy narwhal
Thursday, August 26, 2010 / 5:04 PM
Me: Are you okay?
Carlos: I don't know. I just don't KNOW. I've been driving for eight hours. Hooray for the bunana king! Bunana king! Bu-bu-bunana king! I'm stuck in traffic. I feel like I'm going the wrong way. It's because I AM going the wrong way! Fuck whores! I feel like killin' bitches.
Me: (laughing my ass off on the couch)
Carlos: I'm taking this shortcut. I'm gonna come home and my mom's gonna be like, "WAHWAHWAHWAHWAHWAH?!?!" and I'm gonna be like, "Look, I just got home from work. Fuck this, I'm out. I'm done." Hey, I got your Supernatural shit by the way... but you gotta pay for it.
Me: What do you want?
Carlos: Pineapple. I want a pineapple cut in slices and this shit is done, ya hear?
ogni cuore
ha il suo dolore
If you're here, you've somehow managed to stumble across my blog. The word blog makes me think of snooty fashionistas in
New York writing about their later escapades in their pink Mercedes so we'll just call this the place were Ria (yours truly)
can spit out whatever the hell she wants with no responsibility or thought about who she might be offending.
Also, if you're reading this, you might want to know a few things. This is my fifth attempt at successfully keeping a record of my thoughts and doings
- after a few LiveJournals, a former Blog (if you peek around you might find it), and a few paper journals - so, I figure this might be the last chance
I'll give myself to write everyday - if not possible then every other day - about what's going on through my head.
N
o, you're not handcuffed to a chair. You may leave if you will. Go watch porn.
My basic goal with this is to try to flesh out the philosophies, memories, thoughts that make me - me.
Truthfully, I just want to write again. I miss it.
omnes relinquite spes
o vos intrantes
Nel mezzo del camin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
che la diritta via era smarrita.
Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte,
che nel pensier rinuova la paura!
Tant 'e amara che poco è più morte;
ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai,
dirò del altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.
Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. Inferno
and tonight
the stars revolt