Tuesday, 28 February 2012
most people are dead, lifeless, disingenuous freaks, devoid of all truth, totally faceless faces. their stares bounce of your chest like empty peanut shells and you flow to converge with your river of friends. friends that are real-talkers of unique character: embracers, dancers, effervescent romancers. they love you with violence, they share themselves in silent corners. they are a deluge of true feelings and the problems with cliche's. they hug your spirit, even though everything is dead, empty and vapid. we commiserate, my true friends and I.
Sunday, 19 February 2012
dead alive not happy to survive slack attack the beer sphere with fast Pabst down my throat. Joke with fake, belligerent unfriends and pretend that time will persevere 'til the very end. Take down all their habits, watch them like a nervous rabbit. Fit in like a snake, slither and imitate. Crouch, duck, hide, abide by the voyeur's silent stride and watch the immaculate young bodies undress.