we need noun to be the apple of our eye.
we need something to be the vicious fruit of our labor,
not so much always a someone, but definitely a noun.

this week mine was latex liquid in a deep tangerine, plus
the cold hard fucking REAL hard iron in nails, and
pine scent in floor.
i'm pleased, I have my haven, and my blue curtains to block the world from me,
or me from the world, given the day or second in time.

i live life a second behind, and YA KNOW WHAT?
so do you, because as humans we don't realize whats happened until one (& some odd decimal)
that its happened. ah the road, how damn interesting.
so shoot me in the head with your words, arrow me through the heart with your passions, ill keep grabbing, but a second later.
i promise you that, i'm late anyways.

oh,
sorry..
roger..
you..
TIGA
NOW!!!!!!!!!!