Tuesday, December 18, 2012

chapped lips paper cuts and pinking shears

the eyes in my head feel like dirty fingernails and sticky with glue ruining that last bit of craft with the delirium and carelessness of neglectful hand washing.  you could say i'm tired.  but if you said that you'd never be quiet.  My brain told me to walk the dog for her potty, and I wound up in a car that isn't mine in the Super America parking lot.  no dog.  Better get snacks.


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