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you know, there is something to be said for sleep deprivation. It makes you forget things. Once I had an entire day lost to my own mind's ramblings, the multiple dialogs and songs and sordid details drowning out the pointless morning well into the afternoon. The icicle outside the window has been growing for days, it's about a meter long now and probably deadly. I just want to hug it and tell it everything will be okay, that this darkness and cold will last forever and it can just keep on growing and living until it eventually reaches the ground, but we both know that is a lie. We also both know that such an embrace would kill both of us, it's a long way down and I am rather warmer than ambient temperatures around here. The radiator tends to throw pissfits in the night, hissing and spitting at the darkness. I think it has nightmares involving something evil chasing it down in the Chicago streets. Probably clowns.
Fuck clowns.
People talk about cities having heartbeats and pulses, but this is bullshit fueled by ecstasy and lonely afternoons. Cities are rambling madmen in the middle of nowhere special, they just happen to be bigger than their smaller yet still batshit cousins, the towns. The only thing that knows what the hell is going on with itself is the goddamn earth, and that bitch is about as tight-lipped as the come. Maybe.
Maybe we just don't see eye to eye, or speak in similar terms. It's a marvel how many lives follow her example though, crazy and hot youth that is both essential and barren of meaning, followed by a sort of growing up stage where strange things grow on you and in you. I just hope my end will be as awesome, being swallowed by a star is hard to beat.
I need to buy chicken ovaries.
Fuck clowns.
People talk about cities having heartbeats and pulses, but this is bullshit fueled by ecstasy and lonely afternoons. Cities are rambling madmen in the middle of nowhere special, they just happen to be bigger than their smaller yet still batshit cousins, the towns. The only thing that knows what the hell is going on with itself is the goddamn earth, and that bitch is about as tight-lipped as the come. Maybe.
Maybe we just don't see eye to eye, or speak in similar terms. It's a marvel how many lives follow her example though, crazy and hot youth that is both essential and barren of meaning, followed by a sort of growing up stage where strange things grow on you and in you. I just hope my end will be as awesome, being swallowed by a star is hard to beat.
I need to buy chicken ovaries.
