Drooling
So, shari and I drove back to Novi in the thunderstorm yesterday. It was phun. Well, phun for me and scary for shari. She can't drive in snow or rain, so it was a good thing that I was driving. it was really cool to see the wind blow the rain across the road and feel it hit the side of the car. I forgot how much I miss driving in the rain. Don' t do it much often now that I'm in Michigan. Can't wait to go home...even though it won't be rainy over there. Boo.
But man....tornado funnel clouds....kind of interesting. Shari and I realized that neither of knew what to do if there really were tornados, since we didn't come from tornado areas. The biggest thing we are worried about in the NW is earthquakes which I've been through a couple. one time I was in the shower and the glass panels of the shower started shaking back and forth really badly. My bro freaked out and yelled for me to get out. I guess if the glass had shattered, it would have been troublesome, me being naked and all. Does anyone know what to do if there's a tornado?
So I was thinking....why do we drool? specially when we lay on our stomachs and our heads are turned to the side. Or is that just me. How does the saliva collect in that corner of your mouth...why that specific corner and so far forward. Its such a phunny feeling when you drool too if you think about it. I mean...its like when they have numbed some area and you can feel something touching the area but you really cant't and you don't have control over your facilities in that area...its just werid. It just slides out and there's nothing you can do about it but whip the stuff away...or let it soak into to what every you are leaning on and get a face wash. If you ever catch me lying on something of yours on my stomach...most likely I've drooled on it and you have my condolences ;)
-----------------------
As we sit here,
watching time pass us by,
wrapping our faces in its cloth,
pulling its self by,
only the gentle pressure of the fabric, a reminder of the world we have been injected in
flaping in the wind of activity and we wonder...
is this the moment?
Should I be paying attention to this moment?
Will it be the one to change my mind, my path, my heart?
Will it mean so much that I can't forget, hope to forget,
suck the juices and color out until its just a dry carcase of a hulk and say...
it was a good moment?
Feel the slow decay
...as the skin starts to sag off the bone.
Becoming jiggly, doughy sacks of skin.
As it drops off in slow glomps of death,
and all that's left is the bare ivory of bone and few scarps of skin, feeble and only able to hold on for dear death.
The jaws fine line of definition that gives you such unigue features starts at the tip of white and slo~wly travels up the smooth jawlength of bone,...
turns and encounters the pit where your ear use to be before it too...
slowly slide down the side of your neck, your muscle, your blood, and into the trench of your white collar bone. and as you lift your fingers and listen to the clackle of bone hiting joints you have to wonder....
Why you can't breath,
why it seems that even as your breath has been clogged with cotton and seems to slow, and time calms its cloth,
that your rhythem is shallow and fast and why it seems to keep picking up with no deep breaths,
harder and faster till nothing else matters as you gasp for so called life,
even as you lethargically inhale the humid air, waiting for relief, wating for clarity and breath, and realize
....there just isn't any air
But man....tornado funnel clouds....kind of interesting. Shari and I realized that neither of knew what to do if there really were tornados, since we didn't come from tornado areas. The biggest thing we are worried about in the NW is earthquakes which I've been through a couple. one time I was in the shower and the glass panels of the shower started shaking back and forth really badly. My bro freaked out and yelled for me to get out. I guess if the glass had shattered, it would have been troublesome, me being naked and all. Does anyone know what to do if there's a tornado?
So I was thinking....why do we drool? specially when we lay on our stomachs and our heads are turned to the side. Or is that just me. How does the saliva collect in that corner of your mouth...why that specific corner and so far forward. Its such a phunny feeling when you drool too if you think about it. I mean...its like when they have numbed some area and you can feel something touching the area but you really cant't and you don't have control over your facilities in that area...its just werid. It just slides out and there's nothing you can do about it but whip the stuff away...or let it soak into to what every you are leaning on and get a face wash. If you ever catch me lying on something of yours on my stomach...most likely I've drooled on it and you have my condolences ;)
-----------------------
As we sit here,
watching time pass us by,
wrapping our faces in its cloth,
pulling its self by,
only the gentle pressure of the fabric, a reminder of the world we have been injected in
flaping in the wind of activity and we wonder...
is this the moment?
Should I be paying attention to this moment?
Will it be the one to change my mind, my path, my heart?
Will it mean so much that I can't forget, hope to forget,
suck the juices and color out until its just a dry carcase of a hulk and say...
it was a good moment?
Feel the slow decay
...as the skin starts to sag off the bone.
Becoming jiggly, doughy sacks of skin.
As it drops off in slow glomps of death,
and all that's left is the bare ivory of bone and few scarps of skin, feeble and only able to hold on for dear death.
The jaws fine line of definition that gives you such unigue features starts at the tip of white and slo~wly travels up the smooth jawlength of bone,...
turns and encounters the pit where your ear use to be before it too...
slowly slide down the side of your neck, your muscle, your blood, and into the trench of your white collar bone. and as you lift your fingers and listen to the clackle of bone hiting joints you have to wonder....
Why you can't breath,
why it seems that even as your breath has been clogged with cotton and seems to slow, and time calms its cloth,
that your rhythem is shallow and fast and why it seems to keep picking up with no deep breaths,
harder and faster till nothing else matters as you gasp for so called life,
even as you lethargically inhale the humid air, waiting for relief, wating for clarity and breath, and realize
....there just isn't any air
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