some

are wild.
they hold odd notions in their crowded souls, pushing away columns and stones and antiques, making room for the new and fresh...
But this is an overcoming which is no good, albeit for a time it serves its purpose.
i often throw aside the most important things, forgetting what makes me love myself.
i must be happy with myself. we must love our Self. ourselves. so we do something here and there. i talk to Louis and try to learn spanish. i realize i can be more direct, i can be more secure and blunt. i can say what i want to say. i can walk with my back straight. i can smoke grass in the afternoon and play piano to the ceiling with a microphone.
we all deal in different ways. perhaps it is boring to treat everyone the same, to expect the same, to get the same same same same all the fucking time. let's adapt. let's use different words, let's transform, let's go somewhere new...let's do this and that.
i will always be pushing forward even when i'm drinking coffee in the morning at the breakfast table. something is pushing me, even when it stops. it waits. i know not what it is. but it goes. and goes and goes.
i love life
and i love my koala.
i wish her good morning and i wish all my friends and all the good people a strange and fantastic day.
...pushing slightly into the cushion of the extreme...