quasi_sean

so I'm
left out of all the fun and there is not enough gas left in the vertabrae to keep this party going--
i'm soiled and sadly this is the last nite I'll ever smile while I'm spinning in the moment I imagine all the moments that were fine like wine maybe this is a maelstrom that makes sense or I surrender throw up my hands and zip my eyes shut just not to have to watch it all fall down around me or perhaps I'm truly fascinated by the show and I chew my fingernails w/cheetoes by candlelite impatiently counting down the seconds until it all goes away and I pass thru some burning ring o' fire or sparkly archway that smells of genuine purity & captivating love--if I had a choice would I tear my hair roots out and burst all my capillaries out cause I can't make one fucking lousy decision? Maybe this is something I should start sleeping on right away before I'm sent to the island and given 8.3 seconds to make the decision before it is made for me...oh, fuck, the horror of this thought! If it takes me this long to decide between rice & bagels, something of this magnitude would surely take centuries...which I obviously don't have. Maybe I only have days. It's all up to me. I hold the key to the wetter part of soft skin and think it's all more hopelessly beautiful than I thought.