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CAUTION - Thoughts Crossing

“I've already told you: the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure.” - Marquis de Sade

?


Alpha
or Omega?

are you curious?

do you dare?

2:30 P.M.


Complaining is like masturbating.  If you do it long enough you will get good at it. And the end results can be just as satisfying. 


The results so far:
Free flight from Toronto to Vancouver
Free one day car rental
Free 19" HP LCD monitor


Thank you Lea...you know I love to watch

10:30 A.M (120 words)

More snow is on the way.  Blame it on an Alberta Clipper.  Sounds better than a Pineapple Express. Images of a giant pineapple on madly spinning wheels huffing and puffing up a mountain track distract me from the boredom of yet another meeting.  The driver behind the wheel wears a green plume that bounces madly as he feeds coconut juice into its gaping mouth. There’s a giant straw stuck to the thorny skin out of which belches pina coladas, soaking the waiting passengers as it pulls into the station.  They have their mouths wide open.  I have to stifle another yawn. The voices drone on as the Pineapple Express pulls out of the station.  Outside the skies are darkening. 


8:30 A.M.

It snowed again last night.  A pristine white blanket that hid the ugliness of spring melt.  Does that make it 190 cms or 193 cms of snow this winter.  Who's counting? There was a car beached high on a snow mound.  Looked impressive.  Stupid driver, I thought, I guess it takes too much intelligence to slow down. The snow is already starting to melt again as the temperature rises to -1C.  The sun is brilliantly bright in a blue sky.  The refracted rays hurts my eyes but warms my face.  Vitamin D deficiency is a concern for some, depression a sinister shadow that lurks. But not for this weathered soul.  Kept warm by her hand and the comfort of her smile. 

Three days.

Three days was the morning.
My focus three days old.
~Jane's Addiction





7:30 A.M


The morning sun pokes its sharp rays like fingers through the blinds behind me.  It's cold this morning just like the coffee. It's quiet too, bereft of her breathing or soft whimpers. It's the first Sunday following the Vernal Equinox. Harvest. Fertility. A new beginning.

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If you like what you see, leave your mark. Join the rest of the damned that wander amongst these ruins
Updated 3/16/2008
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