changing directions means to have already done it ages ago, the thought has been there for months and months now, but the actions have not been carried out to actuality. we think and think about these things, these life changes, fantasies, alternate morning rituals, or perhaps different colors applied to the window treatments. but us, being human and/or insecure, and/or preoccupied with other things seemingly greater in purpose or feeling, these new directions sometimes take time to find their ways into monday mornings while we get our kids ready for the week. i type and type and type, but still, time stands still, and anything i try pertaining to typing just doesn't stick, and i never even liked oatmeal in the fucking mornings anyway. the dog is still on my lap, so i can't do it any other way, no matter how hard i try, no matter how hard i try to fool myself.


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i don't know exactly how many times the pizza can be cut in to equal pieces, the math books say it's infinite, but they are not correct. they do not take in to account that only eight great pieces can be cut out of a round pizza, so that means only a maximum of eight pieces should be cut. the quality of each slice is way more important than quantity. this fact rings true on any planet, any solar system, any time. bring it. i'll fucking prove it gladly.

IT

that flash before you don't know better, the best thoughts occur out of the corner of our mind's eye, while drifting about thinking about other things, like grocery lists and the future day's activities pertaining to the normal things we clutter up the time; we run around in circles and sit in cars for hours on end and end. while yes, some can say that their days are filled with adventure and new things around every corner and blink, most of us just average folks are really fucking bored with what the days have been bringing them for months, perhaps years and years on end now. however, there is indeed a way to live this life without that fact annoying the shit out of us, it waking us up with horrible knives of perpetual morning alarm clock shatters to pillows of dreams, making the first word we say every morning a loud and firm, "FUCK. What the fuck.. .. fuck." this magical potion is called... a sense of humor.
fucking lighten up! you bitchy fucks! IT's really not that bad as you make it out to be. and IT would be so much nicer to you if you would stop treating it with so much mean attitude and frivolous lawsuits of 'what ifs.' let Life be, fucking let it be good to you without tearing it to shreds at every step it takes not in your whole and complete auspicious favor. keep your eyes and ears peeled so you can actually notice when it throws you something good, forget about that dumb shit that happened to you years and years ago, don't carry that shit around with you forever! the sunrise and the flowers are only available to those who open their eyes, and even if your eyes are black and blue from getting the shit beat out of you last night, they can still perceive a smile upon a beautiful little girl's face. and i would bet she would want to give you a hug too. if she can deal with that horrible stench wafting from the area of your ass, man, it can't be TOO bad then... which comes to my next piece of words, "cleanliness is next to godliness." yea, god smells good, not like fucking burnt hair and broken pottery. yikes.