Poision thoughts
The internet is just an emotional mirror.
I smell poisoin drafting out of dirty windows, all this artifice. I think we area ll poisioned aliens bought off, taught to walk on hind legs like dogs and live in filth and poison. From teh perspective of the the smell universe, sickness everywhere, we must be a degenerate species.
I see three kids walking and they are full of mindless sexual preoccupation. Three are black and they're with a white student whose ass is showing. I am walking around thinking how beautiful black and muslim people are when they are relaxed, soporific, playful and not self-conscious of a hateful white majority. The veil of my own racism falls from my eyes.
I give a black guy with holes in his clothes who sits down on across from me three pounds for a vice magazine he is selling. Why not? We'll all die soon anyway. The magazine is full of amusing pictures of war torn countries. Black people from where being black is not the main problem.
I pass islamic restaurant with a seperate enterance for women, and it's high ceilinged, chandaliered, not better or worse, just another spectrumof experience. no first world divide exists in a certain sense, it is an illusion created by culture.
and shouty men outside turkish barber shops,
cardboard policemen guard shut down poudn shops.
And if I die tomorrow, life was a stupid activity, but funny, like sleep laughter. I think of love as a near voice beside me as i wander through a dark wood. my heart feels cold with the poisin which makes a sound in my brian like rain makers.
Dying brain, insane brain - not worse, just different.
I smell poisoin drafting out of dirty windows, all this artifice. I think we area ll poisioned aliens bought off, taught to walk on hind legs like dogs and live in filth and poison. From teh perspective of the the smell universe, sickness everywhere, we must be a degenerate species.
I see three kids walking and they are full of mindless sexual preoccupation. Three are black and they're with a white student whose ass is showing. I am walking around thinking how beautiful black and muslim people are when they are relaxed, soporific, playful and not self-conscious of a hateful white majority. The veil of my own racism falls from my eyes.
I give a black guy with holes in his clothes who sits down on across from me three pounds for a vice magazine he is selling. Why not? We'll all die soon anyway. The magazine is full of amusing pictures of war torn countries. Black people from where being black is not the main problem.
I pass islamic restaurant with a seperate enterance for women, and it's high ceilinged, chandaliered, not better or worse, just another spectrumof experience. no first world divide exists in a certain sense, it is an illusion created by culture.
and shouty men outside turkish barber shops,
cardboard policemen guard shut down poudn shops.
And if I die tomorrow, life was a stupid activity, but funny, like sleep laughter. I think of love as a near voice beside me as i wander through a dark wood. my heart feels cold with the poisin which makes a sound in my brian like rain makers.
Dying brain, insane brain - not worse, just different.