The Joy of Madness

April is finally here

I went to Las Vegas and didn't have a very good time. There was ciggarette smoke everywhere. There was a guy who came up to my friend and asked her for a light so that he could light his joint. He goes "This is the last time I will ever see you." I thought wow, that's kind of deep. (LOL)

I love April because this is my birth month. I want to do something special for it. My Mom wants to take me to a play. It is a tough choice between Angels in America or Electra. Electra is an adaptation which takes place in East Los Angeles. I would really love to see Tori Amos too. Either, or.

I feel really good lately. I guess the Lamictal boost has really suited me just fine.

I went to an al-anon meeting last night and learned that everyone, even normies suffer from paranoia. They even feel like people are staring at them and avoid doing certain things so as not to be noticed. One lady said she realized one day that she was not the sun and she didn't cause all that is wrong in other's lives, or their wrongdoings, and that it isn't her job to fix it either.
I thought that only people with mental illness perceived an imaginary audience and had a feeling of omnipotence. Interesting. So how ill are we, honestly.

I wrote some goofy poetry today that I will post here. One is not so goofy.

Child Speak

Yo mama,
yo mama, yo daddy,AND
yo greasy granny!
Yo granny's got holes
in her panties!
That's not fair!
You're cheating.
Ahhm gonna tell.
Wrap 'em up in toilet paper,
send 'em down the elevator,
boy, girl,
twins or trip-uh-lets!

Cheers and Jeers

Nice lipstick!
Nice legs, Manita!
Tiene labios grandes!
Parece un estrella.
Parece Madonna.
Mira la guapa.
Es muy bonita,
pero es muy triste.
And the chorus sings
Thank you, Thank you.

Good Shot

My dark slippery lines
of comedy
about the transiency of life,
hang on in my memory,
because again
there before
the grace of god
go I.
Her face hilly, dry, and brown
as the Arizona desert,
her light blue eyes
just a mirage of water there,
her thinking disorganized;
talking about
what a great shot she is
and how she could have shot
the landlady who disappeared
her eight cats.
Now all of her belongings
belong in a garbage bag
the rest she was forced
to leave behind
because the bus came
and it was time to go.

Posted by Butterfly Emerging at April 4, 2005 01:21 AM