I lifted a crutch and stayed quiet. The smoke was steering in different directions. Lines of pearly white crystals were racked as I grew heavily on pallor. I knew I was me because I couldn’t be anybody else but I felt as if I were a spectator in a ridiculous charade of shady connections. If I just pop my head further down and maybe search for a playlist on my phone it will get bored and move on but that only exasperated demons. Can I slip a word in? Did I just think that or did I say it? Wait, now there’s a guy watching me from afar. I don’t know his name but I know his face. Is he me? Who is me anyway? I’m me. Now something’s flickering erratically but soft and stimulating. A wave of realization hits the shores of doubt but it’s not enough to crash. Regaining senses. I’m where I am. How long did I spend…never mind. Actually forget this whole thing. I’m back now. Fuck I need a drink.
@lawlesshops chill like a e bitch (Taken with Instagram)
There’s crazy up in these walls @rhyslit (Taken with Instagram)
Now dat’s a something (Taken with Instagram)
Lew done grew some head legs (Taken with Instagram)
Goddamn mescaline (Taken with Instagram)
Well it’s a Monday (Taken with Instagram)
That was unexpected. #cleverbot (Taken with Instagram)
Apathy and paranoia suck because in nature, they’re contralateral. One is unmotivated and the other is unnecessarily alert. Its like playing swing ball with Stephen hawking except he’s talking about you behind your back and you’re too lazy to investigate what it is.
It will say ‘we forgot what sobriety felt like but now we have another chance’
Maybe it’s inconceivable for some to think that being straight edge and dying are analogous but perhaps when your head is gone it will think clearer than it ever has.
Beasties! (Taken with Instagram)