sometimes i think about engaging in sexual liason with someone who has serious anger issues. not sure what thats about-though i wonder if it wouldnt wind up being like that scene in that araki movie about the experience that makes gordon-levitt’s character seriously reconsider his path in life and his choices.
the protector hand lay silent amidst ashed and dried wax. neon green tower flares with cartoon flames, beneath further towers filled with dablooms and precious gems and mementos from a different time gone by
The sirens in the distance are like singing, the sirens that are close sing some kind of show in which everybody knows right where they belong, right there, gawking, and fiddling their genitals with the fingers of their minds, subconsciously waiting to be shot or stabbed at any given time
Sometime
somewhere
someone has
a polaroid
of
the
ultimate
defecation,
the eternal
final shit
for the ages
Come dear
ones, pap
shall spin
u
a yarn, it
is old
and strong
and perfectly
long
Our deep
pains and
nightmares
grow with
us,
troubles
pack these
lives into
the flimsy
bags of our
lives, and
lo, so much
little is yet known about where the destination leads or what is
supposed to have been packed from the get go
Reading over the old scrolls, this reader is certainly touched
The scrolls try invariably to maintain their rolled shapes
Holidays these days play template for every game of fools, we fools sing merrily, flush, stumbling through wet and mud laughing at the absurdity of even our jollity, and the strangeness of feeling selfish for jollity in the darkened times.
some walk with scars, with the little devil’s on their shoulders looking out for them toward the rear, while they smile for this short time of jubilee, the last days that any of those sent could safely walk the streets, and now theres no getting off the land – only death or victory
