Words in the parking lot carry over sometimes. Unimportant sounds. Uncertain meanings only the inflections can be seen distinctly. Lack of something hard to put ones feet on. Afraid of instanteous simplification. Clairavoyant asshats appear like bees approaching flowers. Blame, anger, irritation, hurry. Laughter? What is that? Without laughter all is pain. Is that right. Never has it been more important to be happy. Hmm. If thats a joke, then I dont get it. Integrity mashed into an off-white paste. Failure to effect a change. That guy, that woman, that androgenous person in the middle of the sidewalk waving some kind of shiny object. What the hell is the reason. Biological instincts of the mind. Curiousity, worry, concern for the future, obscene levels of trust is never a very good sign, disgust. Being different than the rest, or needing to be unique. Needing something new to break the spell, the lie of the spider, the hold of the overzealous teacher. A nod. A simple instant of rest. One weekend on the water would be nice. Or on the mountain. In the desert with the snakes and the warm embrace of death. Some kind of happy tarot death, not actual heart stoppage. The end of a phase, the strange crisis of phase one million and eight. Stepping out of the muck, out of the sticky sands. Giving in to the way the universe seems to be at this hour, after all these years of drowning. Swimming with the current because well, not being pummeled so much is good. Ideals are for the evil. One girls hopes against the entire physical universe. Why is that going to work. Id ask the devil, but hed say, Because it has to. Fucking jerk.
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