A couple of lines, an extra thermos of joe.
I've got nocturnal instincts in me. I feed on the sky when it's covered in late smog and shoots out little diamonds of light. Something about the air just shakes right through me like the first drink in months of desert thirst. Crisp and piercing, I feel it poke my skin and string through my veins.
I enter my walls of comfort, and I see how confined plaster makes me. I think I may start something exciting and fresh. Something that pulls me in every direction, testing my limits and pushing me to run wild. Last night was the first time in so long that I really felt free. I thought that lightyear had passed and pressed itself into a star, but I guess it fell back down again, lighting up my eyes and showing me possibility.
I met so many new faces, new brainwaves and built-in stories. I was in love with the idea of seeing life in a form that can walk, talk, breathe, and recall. I wanted to wrap myself around every collection of cells and organs. I want to run free with silk and hair that smells like lilacs. I want to weave myself in and out of creation. I want to travel every sea to find muses and people. Finally people.
I wish I were a groupie; pulled along by the chains of sound and the bodies which move strangely like fins. Night time for me was sitting on the cold floor watching my old friends and loves just shredding apart their instruments to create something which turned my mind into putty. I was so in love with sound that my teeth chattered and my knees shook. My body lifted off of the ground, covered in ashes and posters, and I looked into each of their eyes like they saved my life.
I drove all around with my friend Josh, the dark carrying us along, stopping to see a show and to see people we knew from the past. I haven't had such moments of endorphin-shooting chaos since... well it's been a long time.
I feel new and fresh, my surroundings changing and recharging my tired eyes. I can barely take it.
I'll be driving soon, giving me possibilities and bodies to swim through. More than ever before.
Like the moon's milk.
I enter my walls of comfort, and I see how confined plaster makes me. I think I may start something exciting and fresh. Something that pulls me in every direction, testing my limits and pushing me to run wild. Last night was the first time in so long that I really felt free. I thought that lightyear had passed and pressed itself into a star, but I guess it fell back down again, lighting up my eyes and showing me possibility.
I met so many new faces, new brainwaves and built-in stories. I was in love with the idea of seeing life in a form that can walk, talk, breathe, and recall. I wanted to wrap myself around every collection of cells and organs. I want to run free with silk and hair that smells like lilacs. I want to weave myself in and out of creation. I want to travel every sea to find muses and people. Finally people.
I wish I were a groupie; pulled along by the chains of sound and the bodies which move strangely like fins. Night time for me was sitting on the cold floor watching my old friends and loves just shredding apart their instruments to create something which turned my mind into putty. I was so in love with sound that my teeth chattered and my knees shook. My body lifted off of the ground, covered in ashes and posters, and I looked into each of their eyes like they saved my life.
I drove all around with my friend Josh, the dark carrying us along, stopping to see a show and to see people we knew from the past. I haven't had such moments of endorphin-shooting chaos since... well it's been a long time.
I feel new and fresh, my surroundings changing and recharging my tired eyes. I can barely take it.
I'll be driving soon, giving me possibilities and bodies to swim through. More than ever before.
Like the moon's milk.