Archive for Rigamarole
January 25, 2005 at 3:56 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
//EDIT: Changed the “newflame” picture. Added movement!
//EDIT 2: Added a bunch of content on the bottom!
Socially Correct Greetings
While walking down the ring road on the UCI Campus, I often run into a lot of people that I’ve met throughout the past four years of my college existance.
Now, being the awkward social worm I am, the question always arises in my mind as I see the person I know coming towards me –
What the fuck am I going to do?
Do I say hi? Do I look away? What the hell?!.. Social anxiety grips me as I rush to decide what to do. 
.
Though I have a lot of social anxiety, I’ve realized that I DO have a lot of common habits that I slip into, depending on the type of person that I’m approaching.
So here it is, my list:
Kim’s Socially Correct Greetings
for the people you know when you’re passing them in public
(Use with caution. I’m a social retard.)
1. The ex-friend
The friend that you used to hang out with a long time ago but for some reason you stopped chillin with because of a difference, or you guys just drifted apart. This is also the category for those people that you run in the same circles with but don’t really like.
You always, ALWAYS promise that you guys will hang out sometime, even though it will never happen.
2. That person you see around all the time
The person you see around all the time but you don’t know their name and you don’t quite remember where you met them. You probably had a conversation with them once before, but you really can’t be sure about it.
For this occasion, I usually give them a tight lipped smile, a kind of baring of my teeth, hope they don’t stop me and keep walking.
3. Club Member
I know this doesn’t apply to a lot of you, but I’m pretty active in a community service club on campus.
I usually try to say something club related and make sure that they know I remember them.
4. The (dreaded) old flame
That person you had something with and never quite got over. Usually something ended badly.
For this occasion, you should use avoidance as much as possible.
This situation often ends with me IMing that person the same night saying, “I saw you on campus today!”
And the other person saying “Oh! You should have said hi”.
We both know it’s a lie.
5. The new flame
The person that you’re currently with.
There’s always time in your day to stop and have a chat with the person in your life.
6. Close Friend
This is reserved only for the closest of friends, and those you are really comfortable with.
I don’t know about you, but for the people I really like, I generally hump, grab their titties or do my special “secret handshake” (it involves a lot of touching..use your imagination).
So there you have it folks, how to greet people on the street as you’re passing them. Have I covered everything? Probably not! So, if you can think of other types of people that you end up running into when you’re in public, and you’re not sure how to deal with it, leave a comment and I’ll add it to my list!
On another note, check out this sinfest comic! They use the words “Madpimp” in it! How PIMP is that?
//Add: I just found out I got featured content on xanga! Pretty happy about it… In fact, I’m so happy that a lot of people are going to be here today, I’d like to plug my friend Vinh! He entered a photo contest for Jones Soda and he desperately needs your vote to get his picture on the side of a bottle!
Vote for Vinny!!.
Also, HUUUGE happy birthday to DARRELL aka Duh-RELL Cream That’s right ladies.. This bag of manliness is sure to make you cream.
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 24, 2005 at 5:02 am · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
//edit — I linked Lohan Freestyle incorrectly in my post! Sorry for the inconvenience.
//edit part 2 — Holy crap! Only 2 hours after I posted this I found this: Someone quoting me on this. Crazy!
What’s your pleasure?
What are the most primal urges in the body? — Everything that it takes to survive and continue our species. Hunger and Lust.
Hunger I will discuss another day. For today, I want to talk about lust.
Why do I consider lust such a primal urge? 1. All mammals must do it. 2. It makes me go gaga.
Below, I am listing the top 10 body parts on a human being (5 male, 5 female) that cause me to say “Yum.”
Top 5 Female Parts
5. Lips: Hell yeah! have you ever seen Angelina Jolie? SHIT. That shit is hot. I like chickies with thick, sexy lips.
4. Ass: The ass has to be bangin’. Most asian chicks got no ass, but I like something firm and round yet juicy like a fruit.
3. Legs: Nothing like nice long legs to wrap around you huh? Hot. I especially like really high heeled shoes.
2. Face: If the chick ain’t got a hot face, might as well have nothing at all. She’s got to be easy to look at, at least.
1. TITTIES
: YEEY-YUH! The best body part in the female body, the titties!! SHIT! They’re hot! Nothing like two squishy buns in your face! Speaking of which, Lindsey Lohan has big ass titties.
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Top 5 Male Parts
5. Back/Shoulders: A firm, broad, strong back is very sexy to me. Perhaps because I have rather delicate shoulders, it represents a certain strength and virility that for me says “man”. HOLLA!
4. Lips: Doesn’t really matter what the shape/size is, as long as its fitting to your face… It’s more of the way that they move, part, work, that changes a pair of lips from “eh” to sensual… Especially when he uses them for things other than talking.
3. Hands: Hands that are deft and adept in handling and skill are a huge turn on. It’s an indication of how he will handle things…elsewhere. 
2. Chest: Same as the back/shoulders, I like a broad, strong chest that can support me. Also, I like a guy that’s strong enough to carry me where i need to go. That’s so damn hot. I like to play with a guy’s nipples.
1. The V
The V is circled in the picture to the left. Okay, this is seriously, THE MONEY. Nothing turns me on more than that line that points down to your naughty parts saying “Hi! Look here!” Definately, the hottest body part on a guy.
|
So there you have it! The results are in, the hottest body parts are the V(male) and the Titties(female). Disagree? Have another body part that’s better? Leave me a comment stating your argument, and I might just change my mind!
What are your favorite body parts?
Ever feel like you’re just fishing for replies? This comic is for you.
Once again, from one of my favorite comic strips, Diesel Sweeties.
I’m a rocker. I rock out.
I saw this guy’s hair and had to take a picture. When he asked why, I told him it was for my webpage. Anyone know who this guy is? He’s pretty cute.
To see my complete photo collection of events Click Here.
EXTRA EXTRA! Read all about it! I am the official Cam Girl for
CAKALUSA, 2005. Awesome. Go leave him a message telling him how great I look.
This entire entry was totally random. I love it.
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 22, 2005 at 6:40 am · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
Soulmates
a letter to my (future?) Soulmate
Dear Soulmate,
Have we met yet? Are our paths crossed? Will they ever? Every day, I wonder if you are already close to me or if you are some non-being yet to exist in my bubble of knowledge.
I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. If you know me, you should show yourself soon, I am getting tired of waiting. Of course… If you really are my soulmate, and I believe you are, then I am just being silly and impatient.
Soulmate, maybe you haven’t come out yet because you don’t know me well enough. –Have you run away because you know me too well? I want to know all about you, and yet a part of me wonders if the mystery is more romantic.
Is there only one of you out there, or do you have a twin brother or sister that you can introduce me to? If you know, please tell me, because I have been feeling a little lonely lately.
I saw the movie “You’ve got mail” the other day. The part where Meg Ryan was supposed to meet with Tom Hanks at a coffee shop, she has a flower as an indicator, a symbol, of who she is. Will you be holding a rose too? In a coffee shop?
How will I know who you are from all the other people in the world?
Are you just like me, or are you my opposite and compliment in every way?
I thought I found you once. I really did. You were beautiful, and you smiled at me, and you said everything I wanted to hear. You made me laugh, and you made me feel beautiful, you made me feel so complete, even though you were never mine.
It wasn’t really you, though. It was just somebody with your mask on.
Dear Soulmate, are you happy right now? I hope you are, I would never want you to be sad or hurt, even if I haven’t met you yet.
Dear Soulmate, whether you’re my best friend, or somebody from the other side of the world, please let our meeting as soulmates be special. Please let it be wonderful. I know my eyes will fill with tears of happiness even if it’s not a perfect moment, because when I find out who you are, I don’t think that anything can dampen the elation I will feel.
Dear Soulmate, I know I will love you with all my heart, and I can’t wait for us to fall for each other in a way that is not like falling at all but is more like flying above all others, being next to each other, holding each other, helping each other.
I can’t wait.
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 22, 2005 at 6:19 am · Filed under Rigamarole
Soulmates
a letter to my (future?) soulmate
Dear Soulmate,
Have we met yet? Are our paths crossed? Will they ever? Every day, I wonder if you are already close to me or if you are some non-being yet to exist in my bubble of knowledge.
I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. If you know me, you should show yourself soon, I am getting tired of waiting. Of course… If you really are my soulmate, and I believe you are, then I am just being silly and impatient.
Soulmate, maybe you haven’t come out yet because you don’t know me well enough. –Have you run away because you know me too well? I want to know all about you, and yet a part of me wonders if the mystery is more romantic.
Is there only one of you out there, or do you have a twin brother or sister that you can introduce me to? If you know, please tell me, because I have been feeling a little lonely lately.
I saw the movie “You’ve got mail” the other day. The part where Meg Ryan was supposed to meet with Tom Hanks at a coffee shop, she has a flower as an indicator, a symbol, of who she is. Will you be holding a rose too? In a coffee shop?
How will I know who you are from all the other people in the world?
Are you just like me, or are you my opposite and compliment in every way? I thought I found you once. I really did. You were beautiful, and you smiled at me, and you said everything I wanted to hear. You made me laugh, and you made me feel beautiful, you made me feel so complete, even though you were never mine.
It wasn’t really you, though. It was just somebody with your mask on.
Dear Soulmate, are you happy right now? I hope you are, I would never want you to be sad or hurt, even if I haven’t met you yet.
Dear Soulmate, whether you’re my best friend, or somebody from the other side of the world, please let our meeting as soulmates be special. Please let it be wonderful. I know my eyes will fill with tears of happiness even if it’s not a perfect moment, because when I find out who you are, I don’t think that anything can dampen the elation I will feel.
With love, your (future) Soulmate.
January 20, 2005 at 4:28 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
I’m lovin’ tit!
Last night I was talking to this guy, and he came up with the best idea for a t-shirt, EVER. Period.
So I decided to design it — check it out!… This is what I call, HELL YEAH.
Really, this guy is a freakin’ GENIUS!
Preorders, anybody?
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 19, 2005 at 2:01 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
I need to tell you a story…
The Significance of K
an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence
|– to the kiddies – drugs are bad, stay away from them! –|
I’m lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don’t want to hear. ‘You hate yourself,’ it whispers, ‘you need to end yourself. You’re nothing, and you need to die.’ How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.
“Is it ready yet?” I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.
He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.
I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.
I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can’t partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.
He tells me it is done. I breathe.
I breathe in freedom.
I breathe in rebellion.
I breathe in strength.
I breathe in happiness.
I breathe in life.
I pause. I cannot breathe anymore… and yet I must, because I need more. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.
Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
I’ve arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.
Someone is talking, and I’m responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.
I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.
But no, I cannot continue like that. I’m breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I’ve stopped breathing.
Help me. I want to breathe again.
Once again, on a totally different note… this sums up my day…
from one of my favorite comics, diesel sweeties
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 18, 2005 at 6:59 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
I need to tell you a story…
The Significance of K
an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence
|– to the kiddies – drugs are bad, stay away from them! –|
I’m lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don’t want to hear. ‘You hate yourself,’ it whispers, ‘you need to end yourself. You’re nothing, and you need to die.’ How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.
“Is it ready yet?” I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.
He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.
I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.
I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can’t partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.
He tells me it is done. I breathe.
I snort in freedom.
I snort in rebellion.
I snort in strength.
I snort in happiness.
I breathe in life.
I pause. I cannot breathe anymore… and yet I must, because I need more. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.
Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
I’ve arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.
Someone is talking, and I’m responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.
I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.
But no, I cannot continue like that. I’m breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I’ve stopped breathing.
Help me. I want to breathe again.
Once again, on a totally different note… this sums up my day…
from one of my favorite comics, diesel sweeties
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [camville] [camwhores]
January 18, 2005 at 6:21 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com | View my online portfolio
//Lots of misunderstandings on this story, edited story for more clarity//
//edit again: i decided to put my story back to the original because i feel that my art is tainted by editing for clarity//
I need to tell you a story…
The Significance of K
The diary of a drug addict
an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence
|– to the kiddies – drugs are bad, stay away from them! –|
I’m lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don’t want to hear. ‘You hate yourself,’ it whispers, ‘you need to end yourself. You’re nothing, and you need to die.’ How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.
“Is it ready yet?” I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.
He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.
I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.
I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can’t partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.
He tells me it is done. I breathe.
I breathe in freedom.
I breathe in rebellion.
I breathe in strength.
I breathe in happiness.
I breathe in life.
I pause. I cannot breathe anymore… and yet I must, because I need more. I am living my life through a straw. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.
Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
I’ve arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.
Someone is talking, and I’m responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.
I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.
But no, I cannot continue like that. I’m breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I’ve stopped breathing.
Help me. I want to breathe again.
Once again, on a totally different note… this sums up my day…
from one of my favorite comics, diesel sweeties
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [x] [x]
January 18, 2005 at 6:13 am · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com
I need to tell you a story…
The Significance of K
an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence
|– to the kiddies – drugs are bad, stay away from them! –|
I’m lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don’t want to hear. ‘You hate yourself,’ it whispers, ‘you need to end yourself. You’re nothing, and you need to die.’ How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.
“Is it ready yet?” I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.
He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.
I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.
I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can’t partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.
He tells me it is done. I breathe.
I breathe in freedom.
I breathe in rebellion.
I breathe in strength.
I breathe in happiness.
I breathe in life.
I pause. I cannot breathe anymore… and yet I must, because I need more. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.
Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
I’ve arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.
Someone is talking, and I’m responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.
I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.
But no, I cannot continue like that. I’m breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I’ve stopped breathing.
Help me. I want to breathe again.
Love,
Kim
shitlinks:[x] [x] [x] [x]
January 18, 2005 at 6:11 am · Filed under Rigamarole
mirrored from madpimp.com
I need to tell you a story…
The Significance of K
an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence
|– to the kiddies – drugs are bad, stay away from them! –|
I’m lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don’t want to hear. ‘You hate yourself,’ it whispers, ‘you need to end yourself. You’re nothing, and you need to die.’ How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.
“Is it ready yet?” I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.
He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.
I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.
I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can’t partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.
He tells me it is done. I breathe.
I breathe in freedom.
I breathe in rebellion.
I breathe in strength.
I breathe in happiness.
I breathe in life.
I pause. I cannot breathe anymore… and yet I must, because I need more. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.
Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
I’ve arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.
Someone is talking, and I’m responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I’m being stretched, like a rubber band – or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I’m there.
Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.
Time stops.
Time flies.
I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.
I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.
But no, I cannot continue like that. I’m breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I’ve stopped breathing.
Help me. I want to breathe again.
Love,
Kim
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