10.jan.2009

Something is successively coursing within my veins that I can’t seem to cease. And since I, Samantha Rios, am one of the worst Homo sapiens to ever attempt to get my feelings accurately portrayed to some other life source, whether it be another human being or my cat or a leaf or the mailman, I’m not even going to endeavor to explain what I undergo. I’ve stated it before: I’m restless though I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is I’m unerringly craving.
I thrive in feeling out of my body. The majority of people benefit from it as well, but I mean I THRIVE. Because it takes me back. It’s as if the whiffs of sentiment overrule any other infinitesimal consciousness. By whiffs I don’t mean literally, however smell is quite the source of nostalgia.

I adore the senses. I’m so glad they exist. Life as a rock or mineral would really suck. With the most palpable sense: sight, yea, it’s there, when I see old Little Golden books I used to read, or I look at old drawings I made, I get slapped in the face with memories. Have you noticed yet I like memories? I like them, but I never want to relive them. There’s a difference. And I when I smell this one particular air freshener, it reminds me of family pack I got once at Sam’s club and put all throughout my house in Lexington. OH MY GOD I miss that house so much. Anyway, back to air fresheners, I hadn’t smelled that particular scent since probably July 2006 when I moved and earlier this summer, I was walking through the Target double entrance (you know, that little enclave between one entrance and the next) and the aroma struck me. Do you know how blissful/dejected I was? How could that modest little smell get so much out of me? Because. Because I don’t forget anything. Well, to be more correct, I don’t forget about anything. Nothing, though, beats the auditory side of things. I’m not going to establish, because I won’t bring to a halt.

I feel like I just recycle everything I write; I write the same thing over and over again. Maybe I do, WHATEV. I don’t give a flyin fuck if that is the case.

I cleaned my bathtub this morning. That needed to be done, but I kept pushing it off. Well no longer because it is sparkling now.

I’d like to rinse my brain into a cup and pour that cup into a filter and pour the filtered juice into a blender with some other ingredients and dump it back into my brain.

Jagged. Thoughts. Are. The. Best.

I’m done.