Is is such a bad word
the lamp in my room is not an inspired topic
Is is running through the old mire
i’m trying not to be sad
i’m trying to get something interesting out of my broken head, i really feel like i’d feel better if i could have a little moment of brilliance but i think i should probably just go to bed
but i don’t want to
Is is where things only connect
to one other thing; it was cold today
yesterday was thirty-seven degrees
The thing about your street,
is that in the dark everything
looks slanted
i had a feeling i was on ruckers hill
Ah! I’m unnourished, i do confess to naval gazing
i don’t remember where I was going with that
i can’t keep my eyes open
And all that psycadelic music
makes you feel like everything’s mushed together
all happy
forgetful
just a little confused
But why the rinsing?
always seizing upon myself
when I’m tired and drugged up
stop calling that honesty
“Now that I’m a river”
then I’m a swamp
The sundering
energy doesn’t last forever
that’s got to make you think about marriage
bad idea
Things always become other things
you go between moments of energy and moments of in the mire
got it?
And that’s what I meant to say
it’s strange that your street seems so slanted
when it’s actually very flat