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Don?t hold me;
I?m no mystic.
Don?t fuck with me;
she treats my ?tistic?
Just do it --
a ?tastic? --
Yoga-all, I leave it after you;
Now I?m feeling fantastic.
I?ll find how to get after you --
and I will do for you.
I don?t chance it,
and I will do for you
All the pieces
I don?t-yoga --
All the people in colleague with me.

Don?t hold me now
I?m no mystic.
Don?t fuck with me
she treats my ?tistic?.
I can want it
a tastic?
I?ll slide around in seconds --
now I?m feeling fantastic.
I?ll slide around and solve me
and I will do for you;
I don?t chance it
and I will do for you.
I don?t need the love to dance it
I don?t chance it
I don?t chance, at least the love?s here.

Just do it --
I?m no mystic.
Don?t fuck with me --
she treats my ?tistic?.
Don?t hold me now
a tastic?;
I?m jumpy
now I?m feeling fantastic.
I?ll stay and leave there
and I will do for you;
May though you come and leave there
and I will do for you --
I don?t share it;
Yoga after I go;
And leave the lair
I?ll send light-this sad soul laments
It can tell that I love, so I waste.

[tricky et bjork]

blythe1

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An obvious rambling.

Sometimes I can't feel my feet. I don't mean that in a weird overweight diabetes sort of way, I just mean I move forward without even thinking about it. Or even, I stand still, without even thinking about it. And obviously I reverse, without thinking about it. Someone told me it was a lot like the rearview phenomena -- which, unbeknownst to me, has caused accidents. Apparently the phenomena is as simple as it sounds; people spend too much time looking into their rearview mirror instead of what lays ahead, so they wreck. And obviously (assuming they're conscious), they said 'Hell, I don't know what happened, I was just looking into my rearview mirror--' So there you go.

I guess that's sort of how I ended up here. Not that my parents were too busy looking into the rearview mirror and then -- oops! -- here I am. More like, now. In this second. I didn't ask to be planted here, I didn't even ask to be uprooted from where I was -- which isn't utterly important. But until this point, I've never taken the opportunity to sit down, think about why I am where I am, and value it. Maybe that in itself is why I'm such a nomad.

Part of me hates being here because I don't even know my phone number. It changes so quickly I don't have time to memorize it -- the same with my address. I shouldn't have to look at my license to reassure myself that yes, I do live in such-and-such place. I suppose that's the beauty of a cell phone, I should invest. Maybe then I'd actually hear from people -- more specifically, family -- and I won't feel like I'm at such a loss. Kevin told me there's a great place about two blocks away where I should go to meet people -- but it all seems so... forced. I don't know. I think I think too much.

Regardless of it all, I just want to remind myself.

Quit looking into the rearview mirror.