Freezing Carol King

listen: the children are gone. she was the first cd i could round up, thanks to Erin's obsessive Gilmore Girls-watching. somebody left iced orange juice in the blender and i'm on the liquid of diet necessitated by finishing leftovers. michigan? could i stand that cold? goosebumps from the ac here. outside's nice, overcast and that familiar blanket of humidity. why do i wait on these things... dreaming, lately, is becoming accepted as actuality in my memory, this sleepless place where a mind never ceases to continue its workings. day runs into night runs into plans runs into hopes runs into nightdreamlings runs into bibis, did you move me from the my bed? i woke up on the couch... there is no sleepwalking here no sleepwaking here no,
hammer out my personal information as required by family education and rights act of 1974 i waive my right to privacy right to knowledge right for mobilization through the east coast webs of ivy and tunnels, no the latter wasn't a right was it. cannot fill out these forms cannot extract so artificially the 1000-word requirement of passion to paper and how it ties into my career goals this sticky word 'profession' i'd rather show them a picture album or a journal of travels but non-tradition was never really their forte
love makes the world go round and round she says but here the butterflies continue to smash against my windshield the flies on the swatters and the corn yeilds to drought
let me leave, now, where i can hide from the music, the news, the talking in le linguette:
colonization of youth, colonization of you.