i write all this in good faith. But out of crypticism, i longstopped worrying what people made of it
I miss swinging on swings with gray sand
and autumns I could only idealize in the perfect time-space expansion of my mind
instead of contemplating cardboard signs and steps to spontaneous disappearances
Houdini's lore appealing more and more
or some slight of hand.
ill chase after experiences and ghostly shells instead of people
and aspirations fixed and golden are in high contrast with the lust of rattling down the corridor dim lamplights that inevitably go out when needed in coastal rainstorms
with ebony clouds and waves you can only imagine and conceive of if you were to think of living isolated near a lighthouse in the midst of all this
if you could lay down right now and have to come up with something utterly brilliant just as you were leaving this conscious
or if you had to write down a note to exclude from suitcases or leave inside empty suitcases left behind, could you make it more than a indecisive scribble?
and could it even make sense, this theoretical will-document of your experience in that particular place in terms of its significance in your life?
you're housing a little escapist in the basement of your mind
foot on the gas or the brakes?
gas pedal brake pedal gas break gas break
pedal.
it feels much better to exhale, even if the invisible vomitile of converted C02 was slightly overtoxic.
and anyways, we all keep devils in our backpockets in case the inhalation should be too boring.
and autumns I could only idealize in the perfect time-space expansion of my mind
instead of contemplating cardboard signs and steps to spontaneous disappearances
Houdini's lore appealing more and more
or some slight of hand.
ill chase after experiences and ghostly shells instead of people
and aspirations fixed and golden are in high contrast with the lust of rattling down the corridor dim lamplights that inevitably go out when needed in coastal rainstorms
with ebony clouds and waves you can only imagine and conceive of if you were to think of living isolated near a lighthouse in the midst of all this
if you could lay down right now and have to come up with something utterly brilliant just as you were leaving this conscious
or if you had to write down a note to exclude from suitcases or leave inside empty suitcases left behind, could you make it more than a indecisive scribble?
and could it even make sense, this theoretical will-document of your experience in that particular place in terms of its significance in your life?
you're housing a little escapist in the basement of your mind
foot on the gas or the brakes?
gas pedal brake pedal gas break gas break
pedal.
it feels much better to exhale, even if the invisible vomitile of converted C02 was slightly overtoxic.
and anyways, we all keep devils in our backpockets in case the inhalation should be too boring.