oh, this is one of those times.
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winter is not funtional.i happen to be running on an hour of sleep, but i feel appreciated and all last night, the wee hours of the morning, were spent breathing someone else's air. i don't think i smell particularly dazzling today, i forgot what time i was supposed to eat at, my eyes burn and itch with the last lingering darkness before the winter sun.winter is not funtional.
what came before was eerily poetic but it was not functional, my dear. this is something we must come to accept, like the fact &nbs
by ~injuredjaw
conversations with felines.let's try to guess how many people are being spoken of as if they aren't in the room, she says to his cat. she points to him, says, one. she points to herself, says, two. we have quite the collection so far.conversations with felines.
it's like a never-ending rhapsody, this is the song that never ends. she
is a guru of counting things: how many people are wearing very large headphones, how many people are channeling god, how
by ~injuredjaw
ransom notes, paper words.today i claimed that i would take television to bed, if it weren't so rigid and full of corners. and today i wondered what kind of voice static electricity would have, were it human and full of melancholic nostalgia for the arcs of blue lightning in the sky in the heart of august. i wondered if it would be able to sing.ransom notes, paper words.
today i got over something, or at least, i think i got over something, and today i also felt my sto
by ~injuredjaw
clockwork in the autumn seasoni am made of clockwork.clockwork in the autumn season
you happen to be gone. i've been
staring at opposing traffic for too long, waiting to see your face in the slew of metal and loose leaves. i don't even know what i'd do if i saw your eyes again, if i saw the tilt of your mouth that used to fit in the
juxtaposition of my shoulder and neck. i don't know if i'd kiss you or if i'd kill you.
i keep time with my fingers, tap, tap, tapping away, tick, tick, tick.
the weather is getting colder here. it's been raining for two weeks straight and it makes the leaves he
by ~injuredjaw
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
--
Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.
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