Resuscitate me as I turn over an old leaf. Camelot came and went just like the imaginary parsing of "balls don't fail me now". Mid-morning with the BBC completes the thought that goin' to Sedona in an RV just to see the stars is an event.

Here I lay with no delusions, I'm alive - - see? and the good outnumber
outweigh
more prominent
pretends to own the place and peacocks/rama-jams like no one's thinking "that dude is an asshole" and we write accordingly. The annoyances are down to a certain death manageable number and that lady sleeping next to me has no clue that the time in front of us is filled with many more JBFs. Those morning cloud paintings while sipping java with Cinderella and feeling ferklempt that I am NOT so worthy is what needs to be said here.

OK, is that a take? I know it's delicious but also repetitious so go shit in your hat. The element of surprise is secondary to what belies from the baptize prize that eyes the disguise that tries to conceal that this guy's in love with her. Yes, all these words just to get it out that LOVE is the opening and I'm carrying the ball, Alonzo

Caregive and caretake are as opposite as the arts and drama masks but part of the aspirations that were never misplaced. Maybe a little misanthropic but never quite in the category of "Things to be Found".
OK, so I shot some selfies coming out of Caesar's shower - they're safely locked away in the cloud. Excuse me, what leak?