–The computer dude, otherwise know as “The
dumbass who has stolen had our computer for three weeks,” should be
FIRED.

Mr. Liverpool says I’m acting unreasonable,
irrational, unsympathetic, snotty.

Not
true.

He says the computer dude probably has other
commitments, a vast amount of computers he’s working on, a day job, and possibly
does not sit and think about blogs all. day. long.

I don’t believe it.    Nope sir reeee.   He’s probaby sitting on his lazy ass watching some idiotic program while our computer waits & waits &…

“Stop bitching,” he says. You’re
driving me craaazy.   You’re addicted, Kimmy.”

“Whaaaat? No I’m nooot,” I whine like a
fifth grader.

“Just look at how you’re behaving right
now,” he goes on.

 

“Your hands are sweating &
you’re walking around in circles like a wild cat.

 

You need your fix.  You need your crack.”

He smiles that stupid- knowing- familier smile.

I’ve seen that smile many times
before.

“Admit it,” he says. “Just confess
it.”

He sits waiting for my
response.

“So I write a few blogs once in a while….. SOoooo  damn WHAT~”

He’s REALLY starting to piss me
off.

I mean, perhaps there’s a morsel
of truth to what he’s saying.

Perhaps.

But I can stop anytime I want.

Oh, Yeah, baby.

I can stop right now.   Today.
This minute.

Flush my crack, language,
thoughts, ideas, sadness, lamenting, mourning, perspective, insight, &
random hollowness directly down the toilet.

I could….

Observe the words swirl &
swish into silence…

The syllables evaporate into nothingness.

But what would I do with my
words, my words?

Should I keep them hidden inside
to drown, to sink, to suffer?

Should I disguise them like the
plastic red lipsticked smile upon my face?

Should I die in my sleep with
the ink  and words still  upon my tongue?

——-Dear, Readers, What is your
addiction, your obsession, your crack?

pink lips xxxx

For Your Pleasure: ADELE

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