Some nights its amazing how a dark corner of your mind can be the blade that severs the world from you. Long grainy drags on a fleshy image of LIFE, . . . . "as it should be".
Welcomed would be the serene dream, or nightmare, that visits your final slumber, if "perfect" eyes could actually see. You drag on a death-stick sprawled on the curb waiting for something. 25 years and tonight is when life starts? Shitty movie, in a bad part of town, full of root beer and jack, getting kicked out of every establishment nearby, just asking for taxes to roll up and cite you for "drunk in public". Fuck it. You could take em. What a nice dress, arm in arm with a very elegant suit. It would seem they are reveling in romance post credits crossing the lot. Good for them, living happy, enjoy life. Reaction. Now they can bleed rivers on their mercedes, daft cunt, rotten skunk. In the daytime, the bats black out the sun, with a snide mark, and snorted look. No less of a man than them, no more of a bum than you, this common uncommon ground is a pit of putrid hatred, nobody wins here. Slit a thousand throats, and still a voice would bellow its higher peck, and look down on you for second hand shoes. You could fuck a model to spread your demon seed, and wreck the temple of visual stimuli, only to make it more beautiful, and have replacements fall in where the manic media desires the empty soul of Norma Jean. There is no winning, but in your world, by your hands, from your voice, with your mind, slumming on your curb, grabbing YOUR piece of life.
Darkness reminds me that nightlife is still life, and fuck the world that says that we're not good enough.
Surgically separated from this world, and you, and all the bullshit.
Welcomed would be the serene dream, or nightmare, that visits your final slumber, if "perfect" eyes could actually see. You drag on a death-stick sprawled on the curb waiting for something. 25 years and tonight is when life starts? Shitty movie, in a bad part of town, full of root beer and jack, getting kicked out of every establishment nearby, just asking for taxes to roll up and cite you for "drunk in public". Fuck it. You could take em. What a nice dress, arm in arm with a very elegant suit. It would seem they are reveling in romance post credits crossing the lot. Good for them, living happy, enjoy life. Reaction. Now they can bleed rivers on their mercedes, daft cunt, rotten skunk. In the daytime, the bats black out the sun, with a snide mark, and snorted look. No less of a man than them, no more of a bum than you, this common uncommon ground is a pit of putrid hatred, nobody wins here. Slit a thousand throats, and still a voice would bellow its higher peck, and look down on you for second hand shoes. You could fuck a model to spread your demon seed, and wreck the temple of visual stimuli, only to make it more beautiful, and have replacements fall in where the manic media desires the empty soul of Norma Jean. There is no winning, but in your world, by your hands, from your voice, with your mind, slumming on your curb, grabbing YOUR piece of life.
Darkness reminds me that nightlife is still life, and fuck the world that says that we're not good enough.
Surgically separated from this world, and you, and all the bullshit.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
at the time when i saw it i just felt like i could relate to it...
thank you very much for the smile comment. *blushing*
i loved what you wrote about in your blog... i was reading it and i felt like wow this is explaining sooo much! your a really good writter.