Was Away Hunting Ninja!

Back from the West 
Out of touch for a while 
Land of Hobbits and Gamblers
Tight and powerful knowledge is in my blood
Planning on seeing after these dreaming Hungers leave
Wondering if these stars are really all for me
Feeling lucky in an awake way
Simple hopes for the loved
Truthful all the same

For Body and Mind

As Robin on Batman, Burt Ward mentioned a “Holy _____” line 352 times in the TV show’s 120 episode run. Holy overkill, Batman!

111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321

Your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks otherwise it will digest itself.

A group of unicorns is called a blessing.

Thanks

Refreshing cool breezes.
Wake the mind, even as the 
The yearly Death
Starts to kill
We know, though, that its
Secretly giving Life its nap
To come back ready
When the cold times are finished
Sounds familiar?
Have lots of close times, to remind those 
You love
That they are what makes your life
Alive.

Take a Seat

In the back room of my less viewed thoughts, there is a little chair.
Wooden. Smooth and worn. I think I got it at some metaphysical yard sale.
They must have used it when they were doing something messy. It is stained a bit.
I had it for a while before I put it to use. 
At first I just hung unused facades on it, too lazy to put them away after a night of
Being some other me.
Then, for a while, I thought I had lost it in a move when I lost my mind for a bit.
Finally though, I let someone Sit on it. 
Not the most comfy chair. I know.
But it had a good view of my ways, and I could interact with the Sitter 
From any angle
So, this was nice. This felt useful. Non wasteful.  
But as things go, for me, I sort of kept the chair in the backroom.
It was nice to be able to walk by the doorway and enjoy the Sitter.
So, eventually, the Sitter got up to move around. Legs to stretch, you see.
So now the chair is empty again, and I find myself missing the Sitter.
It was nice to feel company near, in mind, even if not in flesh.
But now, when I come into that backroom, to maybe pick up some old jokes, say
I can see the chair isn’t as I thought it was.  
That means the Sitter wasn’t either. Close, and still great.
There is a freedom in this.  
You cant loose something that never was.
I now know that I had created the Sitter, 
With romanticized indecision
Based on a chair that never was
Even in the back room of my less viewed thoughts

Get Some

Sticking it to the ones following me, I jumped through a back alley window into a smutty little titty bar’s toilet. Out in the room, the smell was worse it. Fuck it. I headed to the bar. If I was gonna catch a slug from some dumpy city cop, then I was gonna do it drunk. The tender poured me my whiskey, and I tried to steady my hands to drink. The blood loss and the drugs were fucking me hard. Well, screw them. I’ll just fuck back harder. All that Fuck talk, hee hee, and all the gyrating naked chicks were getting to me.
I had another bright idea. If one of the bags of shit was gonna shoot my soon-to-be-drunk ass, I decided it would be while I was nailing one of these hot little pieces of tail. I shot down another swig. One of the little flesh toys smiled to me. Heh. Poor little fuck hole in waiting. Time to get some poontang!

"Can't Hate Fuck the Ones You Love"

Form fitted enticement with a tempting smile, big eyes, and just the way of saying
“I think I need to be thrown around. I don’t want to be treated gently”
Leaves you filled with the questions if you should just grab her now
Or maybe it is friendly flirtation
With the hinted at Taking not really thought out
I remember that I Know her from before.  
That does nothing to lessen the Lightning.
 But after, I was hit by the realization that I actually took the time 
To Question

Bite My Own Teeth

Sad frustration. I was going to write about the beauty and beauties.
Sad hopelessness. I wished to write about the unexpected smiles.
Sad fears and tears. I want to write about betterment.
Sad fucking world. I will have to write about lies.