Boy did I feel crazy yesterday, I had a severely manic morning where I came pretty close to sabotaging my pleasant life. I decided to walk it off and construct a peom while I was eating in the park, and I do mean peom. I’ve been re-obsessed with F. Scott Fitzgerlad recently, so I butchered some pieces from This Side of Paradise,and used F Scott’s beautiful phrases and word pairings out of context, for my own selfish gratification, chronic mental masturbation and artistic ego. I hold this right as artistic flatulence, this peom is called

Bad Angel

I don’t like girls in the daytime
brick-red and arrogant
school ruined French, mentor of the house
I don’t want to collect locks of hair from many girls

to New York in quest of adventure
a reluctant graduate during the previous summer,
excited her curiosity, basking in the high, an intrinsic part
of her atmosphere

Oddly dissimilar and with handsome eyes,
afternoons they lounged in the windows
and partly by accident, anti-alcoholic,
hands that sat lightly

I can kiss her, I can, but without those broken
words, those little sighs, even the sea seemed
to mumble and complain

tragedy’s emerald green eyes
she released her hold
pretty woman, with brown, dissarranged hair
they were just through dancing

good-by, boys I’m through-

Oooooo dang. Later in the day, I got into a verbal altercation with some pigeons, ate a salad with Mr. Mister down the street, went to a busy body meeting, met F Scott’s Daisy, and my roommate texted me the sweetest buzz ever…”hey, just thought I’d tell you the L words back on demand !”

Oh Heyzeus !