December 2010
9 posts
Seventy Times 7
“I hope there’s ice on all the roads and you can think of me when you forget your seat belt and again when your head goes through the windshield” on repeat in my head as I stare at the silver ceiling laid strapped on the hard neon orange plastic safely bolted to the floor of the ambulance carrying me to South Shore Hospital. My head hits the windshield. I polietly thank the...
HAHAHA what the fuck is all this pretentious bullshit I’ve presented? I guess that will happen after four days running on a combined five hours of sleep. Isolation during such a period did not prove to be helpful either. it’s just so funny! I wish someone would have just told me to shut the fuck up.
ambiguous alliterations
This search for significance has become increasingly insignificant. Eyes feel permanently glazed over in the absence of affinity. OH what I would give for these baby blues to flicker with a fire so bright it burns all apathy to ashes. But lately lights and sounds are reduced to fragments and nothing exists in its entirety. Waiting for a wholeness to wake me, to introduce intoxicating ideas of...
HA!
“fuck what you heard
you were lied to”
