Poets are sluts. I will never trust their love.
They might be faithull and all...
They fall in love, quickly. Too quickly and with the many.
"Oh, look, Beauty!"- and off they go!
Damned bitches and assholes.

They take my energy. I let them.
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stf is bukowski? mmm...no. Yes. What? It's very early.

"'Oh, don't talk about trouble!' said the Duchess. `I make you a present of everything I've said as yet.' "
Alice In Wonderland
I make you a present of everything I've said as yet. Happy birthday.

discernment
\Dis*cern"ment\, n. [Cf. F. discernement.] 1. The act of discerning.

2. The power or faculty of the mind by which it distinguishes one thing from another; power of viewing differences in objects, and their relations and tendencies; penetrative and discriminate mental vision; acuteness; sagacity; insight; as, the errors of youth often proceed from the want of discernment.

Syn: Judgment; acuteness; discrimination; penetration; sagacity; insight. -- Discernment, Penetration, Discrimination. Discernment is keenness and accuracy of mental vision; penetration is the power of seeing deeply into a subject in spite of everything that intercepts the view; discrimination is a capacity of tracing out minute distinctions and the nicest shades of thought. A discerning man is not easily misled; one of a penetrating mind sees a multitude of things which escape others; a discriminating judgment detects the slightest differences.
- - - - -
n 1: the cognitive condition of someone who understands; "he has virtually no understanding of social cause and effect" [syn: understanding, apprehension, savvy] 2: delicate discrimination (especially of aesthetic values); "arrogance and lack of taste contributed to his rapid success"; "to ask at that particular time was the ultimate in bad taste" [syn: taste, appreciation, perceptiveness] 3: perception of that which is obscure [syn: perceptiveness] 4: ability to make good judgments [syn: sagacity, sagaciousness, judgment, judgement] 5: the trait of judging wisely and objectively; "a man of discenment" [syn: discretion]
Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc.

courtesy of mimi:
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September 12, 2002, 5:45 p.m.
In the definitive-proof-that-we-feminist-cultural-studies-types-are-not-making-this-shit-up-about-masculinist-nationalisms-on-display category:
The East Bay Express covered these bad boys in an article hitting the high notes of 9/11 commercialism -- genuine, all-American brass balls. (Modeled, as the Express notes, to hang "realistically.") Owning a pair means that you've got "what it takes to defeat terrorism, defend our homeland, show courage and determination in the face of adversity, and to have the moral fiber to do what's right."
You can choose to wear your balls on your sleeve (since the heart is apparently AWOL) -- or on your keychain or jacket lapel, around your neck, or dangling from your ears. You can sip your morning coffee with the knowledge that your balls are on twenty-four hour alert, or cruise the highways of this great country with your pendulous scrotum hanging from the back bumper. You can even purchase some balls in sterling silver, all the better to display your (ahem) "moral fiber." At the website you can even read testimonials (the pun "testes-monials" is sadly neglected) to the turgid swell of national pride these balls inspire.
Sarcasm is wasted in the shadow of these scrotum.
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I cease to write, fling the pen from me--full of disgust, full of disgust! I will make an end of it--alas, that, is an attitude too heroic for a dilettante. In the end I shall go on living, eating, sleeping; I shall gradually get used to the idea that I am dull, that I cut a wretched and ridiculous figure.
Thomas Mann

And it's one of those nights, the one in which one doesn't take the full bottle of because one's roommate is home and the cat wants love and it's almost Christmas, so what a cliché it would be. Besides, the catholic family doesn't need it. And my mother would blame someone entirely unrelated and make messes everywhere. What is it fear of that makes the smallest tasks insurmountable and the most tentative of situations unmoveable slabs pinning one down? O the drama! Bukowski is forever taking baths with a drink and trying to forget about it. Camus stands in the window eating eggs out of the pan and watches all the little people go by. Maggie Estep rubs herself raw and has a cigarette, vacuums the house.

Moral:
Instead of trying to do it again, go take a bath, get off, have some food and a cigarette, clean up & restore order. Get moving! Otherwise - and what a stupid way to spend an evening. Page seventyfuckingtwo indeed.