golden legos

And today beams a memory of all things lovely in the strange world of sarah. Its quite strange how paths and frames of mind change within each bounty of each day; odd odd odd illusions. odd things are lovely. it adds character. it puts hair on a mans chest. and there aint nothing sexier than that. amen, sistah jane. so a random notion and frame of mind; I just bought these really funky stickers; "war is not healthy for children and other living things" and i slapped them all the hell over the place; on the car, the computer, even the stall at school where i like to pee; you know..the one with all the cool, witty comments that are fun to read. I always make sure to go in the third stall down; yes, that one bitch, and oh! yet another witty remark in black sharpee. I always want to write this one phrase down; yet Id find it rather odd to be sitting, peeing, and vandalizing school property, so Ive decided to just be an observer of such. anyways, i stuck a sticker in that stall, and it adds color to the other what dim surroundingd. amen brotha jonah!

peace and love...
(read on)
???



today today today today! marvelous things await
(i love the word marvelous; its underused but oh so



the blue skies beam so bright; hitting the eye with a pulsing fiery effect
The houses under the golden san francisco light glisten and glow; the pinks distinct from the peaches distinct from the creams, but all alligned so beautifully ontop the rolling hills. At night these same hills are flushed with distinct rows of lights lights all blinking and glowing and trinkling and dinging and forcing their presensce against the black lit sky.
Houses...forming...patterns up and down streets like Legos with bright, egocentric colors stacked..one on top of the other; a child's most creative masterpiece. A plethora of Victorian windows with decadent vintage ironwork, giving each house its own distinct personality and sharing its life in tune with the ebb and flow of each month's moon.
And, most wonderful of all; that time of day when the sun begins to glisten in gold, and oranges and pinks and all other bizarre and unlikely colors. And I sit there atop the terrace or maybe in the living room sipping a cup of pure afternoon delight and every building on the street glistens in warmth.