stress
"Are you okay?!" She's screaming in her sleep again - repeating some sad chorus over and over; the crickets move quickly in the heat, their singing pulling the frogs from the mud...
In here, though, it's all cold empty cities and haunted machines with their tin ear noises, a new type of blues as I make another feeble attempt to insulate myself from the living, breathing world outside. Call it sublime - nature - but it is brutal, giving no room for ambivalence.
You see a Monet, centered, subtle and textured. All I see... all I hear, is terror.
In here, though, it's all cold empty cities and haunted machines with their tin ear noises, a new type of blues as I make another feeble attempt to insulate myself from the living, breathing world outside. Call it sublime - nature - but it is brutal, giving no room for ambivalence.
You see a Monet, centered, subtle and textured. All I see... all I hear, is terror.