By the guppy
Date: 21 June 2000
watermarked
so, there i was. it always seems like stories start that way. at least my stories. there i was. not here i am. i suppose it's because the present tense doesn't always seem like a gift...not like they (they being them) preach to you about in sunday school or hallmark cards. the present may be a blessing, but it's often a tough one to jump around about. unless you happen to stumble upon one of those really earth moving moments...like a first kiss...or the employees at taco bell actually getting your order straight. such things define bliss. such things give reason to jump around.
alice b. toklas never baked love into a muffin, or loaf, or any culinary article. that feeling is just to difficult to contain...or to mix with the likes of beaten egg whites and vanilla.
so, here i am. existential. thinking that i would label love as being entirely exitstential...but not really. always within view, always a little too uncooked, or overcooked, or hot, or cold...or just right, but some other hairy mammal has already recognized it as such...or just too bad...or too good. it's a routine...get up in the morning, get down at night. and night-time is the write-time...so, voila. entertainment. here i am. i'll probably press down the keys a few hundred more times. i'll probably think a few thousand times a second about placing names with the words they inspire. and i'll end up running it through the old moral judgement machine that seems to lead me to encryption. the names aren't as important as the people. and the direction can change as quickly as i can run.
for instance: peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
welcome to memphis.
leading houses to water.
welcome to poetic variation.
leading mouses to murder.
welcome to the micetrap blues innuendo
lighting torches for father.
welcome to a good multi-level interpretable line.
welcome to my world.
eh, i never promised a story...
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