Spaghetti Brained Musings

I feel like I stink of stagnation. Slimy gnashing. Tar water. Hope Springs. Big rock about to cause some ripples, hopefully I can break free. Bare feetedness running through the forest. Twigs. Mud. Leaves. Freedom.

Musical whirlwinds. Saving me from pity parties one day at a time. Beggars and Hangers on. Hot dayam foot tappin music. Thank you Slash, Duff, Eric Dover, Gilby, Mike Inez and Matt Sorum for this song.  Once again you guys make me feel not quite so alone :) " I know that there's a time and a reason to take the ghost and lock it up inside and maybe i am down but i'm not beaten like anything we were born to die"

The voice of freedom is so quiet. Or maybe simply far away. It's all grey again. My face is forgetting what a smile feels like again. Cant feel my eyes dancing. I had golden serenity and rainbow eyes. I'd like that back please. Drums? I need drums. Funny thing I've noticed. When this happens my c-section scar acts up. I also can't bring myself to wear even the tiniest bit of make up, like my skin needs to be clean. Subconscious need to be demasked? Heart is very achey. When the little grooves and indentations on your wall become tiny worlds of what ifs, could bes and regret. New wall please.