the time has come, the walrus said
to talk of many things...

xanga.com/mypyramids

Why allow yourself to be temporarily binded to another human being?
Is anyone ever completely satisfied?
Are some people closer than others to the state of contentment? If so, which plays a bigger role: their circumstances or their attitude?
Is it wrong to lose your identity to a relationship?
Are you required to reciprocate affection all the time?
When mind and body are not in agreement, is the act ethically wrong, and if so, who are you offending and based on what premise?
Does anyone truly know what they want?
Are our decisions enhanced by the existence of an opposing conscience?

Smile for a while and let's be jolly
Love shouldn't be so melancholy
Come along and share the good times while we can

I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden
Right along with the sunshine, there's gotta be a little rain sometimes
When you take you gotta give
So live and let live and let go

say the suicide machines

Insomnia

Andrea blinked. “Life could be worse (I think).”

    Shadows of branches swayed outside her window as if to shake their heads in response. “Maybe, but probably not,” whispered the trees. Insects clicked their tentacles in sympathy. 
    “Life could be worse,” she repeated, “right, Polly?” Andrea had named her pillow Polly several nights ago. Now she didn’t have to face the night alone.
    But it’s not. You’re stuck in your present state of semi-misery and there’s not a thing you can do about it. You can't even console yourself with the extermity of your troubles because you don't even have it that bad. Unfortunately, Polly was not the most cheerful of companions. 
    “Sleeping pills?” suggested a stuffed dog from beneath her sheets.
    “Washed it down with a glass of warm milk,” replied Andrea sadly.
    “Nothing?” asked the floorboards in disbelief.
    “Still wide awake.” Andrea sighed.
 

You have a really...weird bellybutton. I told you that right.
Yeah.
Like. A crater or something.
Yours is weird too. Looks like a snake's eye.
Okay fine, between the both of ours, we'd have The Perfect Bellybutton.
Yeah.