When the ink dries, we'll have another bastard's peace.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

jenwery sebbin. this car iz thought.

im perennially perpetually fucked

and only yesterday and earlier today i was glorying in it

but the snow shits on my parade like in ways it shouldn't

i guess i don't know where i am going

let alone where i am right now. i guess i am big pictures as pauses, two frames as camera pans, i guess i am always laughing at my other selves. and staring at the others, delving in little fits into all the cracks in my walls.

fuck. i need so much godamn shit. i can't function with any semblance of normalcy. i'm too high-minded for the little tasks and it makes the big ones so much harder when you're living in garbage,

my clohes aren't the only things coming apart at the seams. only tonight it'll be all better. until the rnagers score the first goal. right? or do we sixtoo them again? who knows.

even my robin glasses are no good for seeing the future.

anyway. i guess. elevatoro.