A dream and a song.

A dream and a song.

Everything for a dream and a song.

I don't know which is worse --

Not being able to picture the two of you being happy together

OR

Being able to picture the two of you happy together and comparing it to NOW

It’s an obsession.

A queen-sized bedroom with a horse-sized appetite.

I could eat a hearse.

I could jump me to the moon.

Sail or moon?

Sink or swim?

Fish or fish?

These are the questions we’ve got to fez.

For in this bicycle that we call life.

We are the ones who are Westinghouse.

I just erased that last sentence.

The one you couldn’t read and may never ever ever again for all of the rest of our lives.

Please don’t fall. It’s so baduy.

Al Tapone drew his flaming gun sword. The Don sneered a sneering laughing frown. "ha HA ha HA" said his lips, rotten. You think that can scare the Donmother!?! And with that Don Corleonehoneehahoneho drew his big mather father gun! It was as long as a tadpole, yet shorter than a PLDT telephone pole. He aimed and BANG!, this sentence was unexpectedly ended with an exclamation mark/point.

Al Tapone dodged a bullet and bite the bullet. Then the hangster gangsters got into the action! It was a royal rumbel in the Bronx like no other; around 100,001 Chicago hitmen rushed forward to meet the enemies, the Italian Mafio, numbering in the tens. Brother was pit against brother, and even their sisters, too. Crowbar was raised against foot fungus, handgun against horse hoof, spears against nuke. It was like the battle in the movie 300, only everyone was using guns and fists, so it wasn't like that at all. Panic filled the streets, blood flowed in the rivers, and children laughed like happy balloons.

Finally when the smoke cleared, everyone was dead. Al Tapone had used his last resort weapon – a resort in Punta Fuego Batangas. When all the gangsters entered to enjoy the amenities, they turned out to be manatees. The manatees employed their deadly herbivorous sharp teet and tore the soldiers apart. Only Don Corleano was alive in spite of the carnage allotted to bare minimum. Have mercy! Said the Don. Luckily for him, fortune smiled with its black-toothed grin. Al Tapone had decided to employ him as a business partner after all. After all, two heads are better than nun.

Place a door on your forehead

Open it and enter

What do you see?

I see butterflies metamorphing into stage balloons

Strange mellow fellows and bed pan spoons

Red blue and yellow having a singalong tune

Goose pimple bumps staring at a fire spark moon

I see trees of golden marmalade

Stomping on forest-like fiends

Jackrabbit jackanapes

Smiling laughing happy shouting

I see medium rare islands

Glimmering like sun

Dew drop rain floating

Glancing at no one

I see stepping stone entrances

Enchanting mildew mistresses

Stew fort buttresses

Giant man-made natural wonders

Rainbow antelopes jumping

Star earth sunny placid waters

And a solitary thought that can eclipse the whole

Better things sprout

All things work out

Optimism is the workaround, not the cure

Everything sparkling attains some allure

Beautiful cruelty sparks things around

Definite nothings flutter around

Words fall on deaf ears

Chins follow cleft beards

A simple miss neglected

Makes all flings respected

Not that it matters

Anyway

So this is what

Has been missing

So this is when

You begin to breathe

So this is how

You live your life

So this is why

Everything is beautiful

Sky blue willows

Blossom now

And will continue

For I have found you