kickinglovers

Travelling to defy laws and adapt to concepts designed for the greater man. Eyes taken, words stolen - meaningful warning signs ahead. Here we go; like some fudged drawing of a landslide in the road. President set by the tone of the music... and the beat box booms. Miles of unfamiliar roads leading me to ? I don't know where, I didn't design the map, or at least I don't think I did. Maybe it was a blind feat, my emotional turmoil contained in a small 3by3 scrap of paper aiding my way to the greater land. As if those pixies were helping us, they just confused the matter, them with their funny little hats, with their twisted little smiles - crooked times m'lady.
I could sit there, on the side of the road and help a passing traveller (wearing a macabre clown costume to jest at sight) who was carrying and old newspaper, one that would show our village what the grass was really made of (rubber; i have proof). A paperback book read it just the same.. only the language was slightly off centre. Wirey. whiney droney voices, with carrot topped hair and funny shaped feet.
She sleeps. I dream.
I still lost the route, the yellow arrows painted on the floor five years ago have faded because those damn lions and tin men keep walking down, down and around trying to find some wizard? A little guy in a constume who charges ten bucks to send you home; these hypnotists can do wonders for your confidence.
There is no place like home, soon I will fly on my very own balloon across the sea to a place semi-familiar. Hubala hubala.
I wonder if the orange coloured people missed me, me with that funny stare. Possibly not.

"here we come, walking down the street.. get the funniest looks from.......everyone we meet......."*" ".







update: quick thought.


sometimes my stupidity escapes my grasp. this time i have to just pick it u and put it back in my pocket for there are no room for mistakes...

wankstain.