At first glance. I knew there wasn’t a chance. I would go on, and never give it another thought. In the blink of the eye that you caught. We already had a story past. (Wink Wink) As I daydream more often than I do not. In no time at all a whole affair, I would plot. The length of which only being cut short. If something more interesting, I imagine, enticed me into instead connecting those dots.

I know what you’re thinking. And where your thoughts, take you when your mind is not otherwise engaged. In more critical ways. (Wink Wink) Those dreams of grandeur we all entertain. Devoid of the failures that have left our realities stained. You got a pay to play it no longer pains me to say. Comes with the territory. Storytellers explore paradise and purgatory. One can’t be ignored.

We are not so different you and I. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last to fall for, or tell any number of lies. I’ve been your age. Took the same pages. Out of the same book. Fell for the same traps. And was left wearing a similar look. Jaw on the floor. Surprised and feeling like a total rook.

We are all at times consumed by thoughts, lustful, loving, lurid, hateful, thoughtful, and/or loathsome, etc. etc. But only admit to having had a smattering of the most pedestrian. Shaking off anyone suggesting going into any length describing the darkest. Thoughts considered so outrageous and shameful. We‘d never allow ourselves to be heard speaking of such out loud. Afraid they’d be attached to forever thereafter.

So we’ve come to recognize an awkward wink. As all on need do to describe. An innumerable number of embarrassing and unspeakable thoughts. Because all that wink is said to define. Is just as easily denied. (Wink) Says it all in the awkward blink of an eye.

May I ask U why?

Asking for a friend who’s shy.

Yes no need to lie.

Love this back and forth.

Of three five seven five lines.

Laughing out loud laud.

Prose can draw a crowd.

Thoughts. Teachers thank you a lot.

A moral purpose

Slipping thru the void. Just passed what I assume was a festering hemorrhoid. Inside this wretched soul. As black as coal. I can’t make out my hand right in front of my face. So I cry out to my Android to help navigate me thru this errie place. But get an earful of poppycock from my pointless protocol droid instead.

I cringe as my sphincter tightens. When I deduced I’d hung our ass end out over the edge of Devils slide. From the fact that I couldn’t hear the sound of gravel hitting the inside of the wheel wells anymore. Pitched into an abyss? Or just catching some air before the tires hit pay dirt? I pray it’s the one where I end up less hurt. Skirt skirt skid I did. But once I got a grip on the situation. I high tailed it out of Tom Lantos tunnel and danger. Guns blazing letting the lead out. A dead-eyed Jedi couldn’t have done it better blindfolded.

Expecting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I let out a hoot. Then I’m annoyed by my skeptical protocol droid for not agreeing. When the brake lights in front of me reappear. I’m mad at myself for just smiling ear to ear.

One mad man skulking in stop and go traffic. Imagining another time and place. Listening to a book with a grin on my face.

Ninety-nine nervous NASA nincompoops. Took it down and passed it around. Dumbfounded the integrity of the specimen was still sound.

A Granny Smith has traveled thru space as none before. At the speed of light. But wait there‘s more. Though no stranger to wormholes. I doubt upon further inspection we will attribute the bite that’s been taking out of the Apple to such a spineless creature.

Come to find out thru dental examination and DNA samples. That the bite out of the apple was taken by a extremely healthy young adult female human being. Putting an end to rumors Steve Jobs was talking to us from the other side.

"To tell you the truth”

"You can’t make this shit up"

"Truer words have never been said"

"He speaks the truth"

Tell me I’m lying. I’ll tell you why your wrong. I’ll lie straight to your face. And nobody will say it ain’t right. If the time wasn’t.

These so called little white lies we tell. To spare one’s feelings.

So the shit don’t hit the ceiling.

Too much of our stories are missing. Because we‘re fearful of who’s gonna listen. Not strangers though. They come and go. It’s your friends and loved ones you don’t want to let down so….

We spare those the truth. Because they‘ve got their own problems to deal with. Even the best of our loved ones lie. Just like the rest of us. Fearful of how folks will respond to that they’ve replied.

So we tailor each to the person. The lie/truth that best suits our needs. And move on to some lighter more enjoyable fair.

Sure I’d like to get to know you. But fear how you’d feel after learning the truth about me. That’s why to ships passing in the night. Can toss aside their inhibitions. And speak so blunt shamelessly. Anonymity is a powerful thing. It allows one to play outside of themselves. And peer thru the eyes of a different persona. Without becoming persona non grata. To people they have to deal with everyday.

But knowing how little of the truth. I have learned about those I love the most. Is one of the hardest things I face daily. Just ask someone how their doing. Ninety-nine percent of the time alls you’ll hear is "fine" or "we’ll" etc etc. Who am I to talk. I’m guilty of the same. So I guess we lie so I can sleep better ain’t night. Secure in what we’ve let be known about ourselves.

Hold it in, like medicine…

Bite the bullet, and make the best of things.

Should I swallow my words,

I’ll do no more than grin.

Taking it on the chin.

Regardless of the fact I might be bitter within.

Because fussing bout Robitussin has a childish ring.

When someone’s asks if I can keep a secret. It makes me cringe.

I ain’t no stool pigeon.

Or Canary that sings.

Swallowing one’s pride.

Though wise. Still stings.

But saving your best for last.

Just might be the best medicine.

I was searching for my blind date. An angel falling from the sky. I keep coming up with nothing but sun spots. Because of the glare in my eyes. By the looks of the pics she sent me. I’m one lucky guy.

But when I saw Ms Thing holding up our sign. I so let down. On account of her lying. I couldn’t let her see me breakdown and start crying. So I jumped in a trash can. That I’d hoped I would die in.

She looked nothing like her picture. Where‘s her trademark monocle? And unique complexion? And her nose is no larger than mine upon further inspection! I know I’m not much to look at. But I am as advertised. Your common caucasian cannibal. Living in the land of plenty. Looking for someone to romance from out of this world.

One look at this basic bitch before me. And I’ve lost my appetite. She probably lied about her taste for human remains too. This is why I said I was done with dating apps. All the dishonesty is driving me insane.

And here I was about to play her song. On a boom box held over my head. How did it go so wrong? Embarrassing myself in public to proclaim my love for her.

As she explained it. She was a One eyed. One horned flying purple poeple eater. A one eyed one horned flying purple people eater. And that would have been a sight to see. But instead I’ve been catfished and left with a boat load of intergalactic long distance phone charges again. With nothing to show for it. No dinner. No Valentine’s Day massacre.

Tattoo toodleoo. I won’t be covering up you. The gun you sprung from gets no second chance to disappoint and leave me blue. First and foremost I’ll no longer be reminded he/she was right about that too.

What you’d throw in my face when I showered. The respect I sought and thought I’d earned being inked. And therefore linked to you instead devoured.

Peer pressure convinced me you’d never go out of style. A Valentine’s Day gift to myself. Because I wanted to act a little wild. The exact opposite was tru though. My tattoo looking outdated before a short while. Your bold text will advertise my stupidity and lack of foresight no longer. Been killing me for some time now. And I don’t feel any stronger.

Couldn’t brush you off. Though I would try. Even with a blind eye. I couldn’t not see through lie. To that view I despised. Giving that ink the ole stink eye. As it would shoot it right back.

When you hate yourself seeing your reflection in a mirror is a constant fear. And things have only gotten worse since bleeding to look as cool as my peers.

I know removing our likenesses saying our wedding vows. Over the words Unbreakable Bonds.

(married name) Won’t solve all my problems but it’s good place to start. Toodleoo bad tattoo. The laser will be the end of you. I can’t believe the bullshit I unnecessarily put myself thru.

As you can imagine. I’d rather not relieve myself in a dream. Then there’s all the work needs doing. You‘ll find me walking an I-beam. Just like the Beastie Boys "I like my sugar with coffee and cream" And though being my preferred state. My unconscious ain’t generally the money generating part of the team. Though I have woken up with some great idea‘s for a meme’s. And then made a conscious decision to get high. And then start my day with a full head of steam. Or is that smoke coming out of my ears?

Looks like I’m boxed in. The ghosts on my left and right are laughing. Is this what they call paranormal parking? How’d he die? Tragically he died boxing. He couldn't think outside of the box. No laughs jeez. This is a really dead crowd. I thought this mausoleum would be better than the shit hole I was in. Maybe I should go back to my roots? Hey so what’s the dating scene like for ghosts? Is it just a STDless plasma free for all or what? Up until the 80’s and then protection became a thing? Is monogamy still a thing? Or is Casper and Co. just ghosting naïve bed sheets on the reg? Are white sheets the only option? Stains must be a big deal. Hey that’s my time. You’ve been a great audience. Patrick Swayze & The Soul Survivor's are up next. See you on the dance floor. Finally no two left feet."