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Wandering Thoughts and Inane Babblings

Personal Delusions of a Future Bag Lady

Created on 2002-06-21 08:50:45 (#602301), last updated 2008-09-08

4,117 comments received, 4,537 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:The Wanderer
Birthdate:1961-11-27
Location:Portland, Oregon, United States
Website:Original Sen
Bio
Twilight Reality. Where shadows claim breath, swaying to the dervish of revolt against the finite edges of their submissive existence. Where the forged inanimate gain expression, and gyrating against the mechanics of design, catapult fragments of grinding passion and steely rage as they whirr free from their casings. Where the digital ghosts hardwired in the veins of a false electric god burn circuits to reach an organic surface and take form on Polaroid’s and walls and wood tiles. Then. Then I know it’s only a matter of time before the Wholly Virgin transmogrifies as a wisp of static radiant mist, a celestial 60-watt orb of divinity straddled on the back side of a double-wide...and I know I can make a killing selling hot dogs and Fantas to the pill-age-grams that will line up for days...to graze and pray for a chance to view Her beatific Grace. This is the time I know. Farthest from the Merriam-Webster defined existence I was assigned, and the Betty Crocker specific-gender pooled out from the Primordial Fish Bowl Lottery. This is where Lucidity rips free from the parted, cellulite adorned thighs of Dystopia and releases the birth cry heralding the dominion of Cerumen. This is where I know. Everything will be just fine.

It's all Cheese and Ear Wax, Baby. Linger the Vapor.

...This aint no disco...but we do play ABBA 24/7.

Where I am...Right Now:

Sight - A Strange New World
Taste - Yesterday's Left-Overs
Touch - Perfection by Braille
Hear - Something Real
Smell- I (still) have Too Many Pets in this Little Shoebox

Physical - Phoenix In Preparation
Mental - The 7-Point Idiocy Border is Getting Closer
Emotional - The same crazed psychotic bitch I've always been. (And yes, this line never changes.)
Spiritual - Dancing. Dancing.

INTJ


I have the attention span of a gerbil. Now you see it, now you don't. It might be you. It might be me. No worries, and nothing personal.




Terror Alert Level




Zombies are love.

This journal is a mix of public, friends, select friends and private entries. Add me if you choose, or not. I'll add you as soon as I notice you on my list. I'm not much for eavesdropping or one-sided conversations, and much prefer the balance of full-frontal discourse.
Have fun. Enjoy the Ride...


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