Tuesday, February 12

fancy crayons.

the table is trashed with strewn supplies of the crafty variety,
uh-huh.
cheap oil pastels and rediscovered cardboard scraps are everywhere...
you know what that means, dontcha?
it must almost be valentines day!
yuuuuup.
i'm on my grind, neighbors.
all it took was eleven days to set it off.
left alone with my thoughts,
i start doo-dooing what i do best-
(no, not baking, the other thing i do best)
y'know-
using the worst materials and the hardest styles to make something
double-negatively positive to show off for my trouble.
uhhhh.
i'm also positive that's a mathematically accurate statement, so go easy.
that's right, neighbors.
it all adds up.
i'm on that cutesy arthur-making hobbyist jauns this week.
that's real.
and i'm warming up with some of these:

been a little minute since i fingerblended a greasy drawing, duders.
that's a serious thing.
muscle memory, though, is an even more serious thing.
i'm getting into it.
who knew?
check the scavenged-material craft-project teleport:
cute?
it's a start.
i dunno, duders.
the year of the snake seems to be slithering into my fingers and thumbs,
and there's some kind of hearty heart-shaping hissing in fits from my hands.
^^and that last one isn't quite done yet.
c'mon.
they all get extra hearts and squirts and sh!t.
it has to happen, homies, and honestly, it's not up to me, now is it?
the rules for each series write themselves as we create the pretty pictures.
free will is dope,
but rules is rules, ninjas.
and i kinda like that, because i'm kinda like that.
i guess sometimes a little alone time forces a ninja to get busy?
so it would seem.....
***********
single serving one-shot conversation hearts.
that's what's up.
of course,
the hearts are almost always broken,
and the conversations are completely one-sided,
even if olive the dog pretends to understand, with her head cocked to the side
and a look of intensity on her dim-bulbous eyes.
(we all know she is actually just waiting for some peanut-buttery bicuits)
that's how it goes, though.
it's up to us worthy warrior poets to keep it all on the expert side of the street.
quitters and minky, mincey waterbaby diaperpants-sh!tters can cop a walk,
but we'll remain elite, right?
infinite natures don't ever stop.
so i think we just stand strong while an ocean of giving up tries to erode our shores.
yeah, it's the harder way.
but because we're smart enough to work out that that's actually the only way,
me and my peoples get busy with it...
harder is smarter, louder is better, and fresher is all that matters-
really real life really is so ugly, but it's also so F*ing dope.
a better fate than b!tchbaggery awaits us everywhere.
you know the line, ninja-
just be ugly, just be dope,
or F* right off.
and that's the truth;
never quiet, never soft.....7x51!

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