sitting on the sidewalk in a silver cyber lounge chair sun finally burning through my neighborhood finally burning through me. i am taking in all of you in small increments so i do not saturate with bewilderment. i am holding a precious bubble maker lens of magic garden yard sale. i see you and i see you. and i see k-fly and shia. i see kj and cosmic. i see bunny and bella. i see all of the meaningless possessions of my identity scattered about the cement and i am no longer owned by anything. except my fear and insecurity. i am paralized as eli plays my dreaming song belting it out with guitar and commitment. he is the soundtrack of this moment. he is purebeautylove. i can't take any of it. it is all so perfectly flowing. kj has managed to complete seven outfit changes using the items for sale, my favorite being ski pants under a white tutu under a green tutu with a boustierre and gold blond hair extensions with rainbow half-gloves and my green headlight goggles. no one can breathe each time she comes out. there is more laughter than oxygen. yesterday, dorothy, our 83 year old fuzzy purse shopper, is in love with all of us and plans to write a sit com about it. she sits in the other cyber chair and takes notes on our topic at hand; how we four white girls ended up with black asses. we are all pretty babelicious, yet single. we guessed her to be 63. and now we are the dorothy fan club. i would not be surprised if she drops off a script. so today is the climax of an obscene two days. my roomates car being stolen from our driveway in broad daylight, me rear-ending some motherfuckingassholewhodoesntuseablinkertoturnatthelastsecond in mmm's '99 jetta, towing my old car, moving all of my possessions out of my home in preparation to move to china. and working fridaysaturdaysunday. HELPMEHELPMEHELPME. can somebody send me some xanex. thanks.

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