leonvm
we are gathered here together in the cold heart of ourselves. we are burying our nature under 'n ton of sewerage and ugly buildings. not because we can but because we want to.
around the corner is a cupboard with nothing in it. Not even a thought or a spec of dust. It is completely empty, empty like my mind. There is nothing to it, I promise you, not a single little thing. Not even the files are left there.
On my shoulders is a heavy weight, including an oversized onion with layers of flavour to be cooked deep into the sauciest curry at the end of really sore toes and ankles. Flavours countering pain.
there is no way you can do it, making no bones about it. It is just the way life is. The seasons change, faster than we remember from previous years. Especially in a year with no summer. Just rain rain rain all the time.
The acoustic guitar twangs. Badly in the wrong hands.
hysterically i sit here and wonder how this works? i see the ticker slowly creeping up on me. I want to write and keep on making mistake after mistake. Lots of them. Maybe its cold, maybe I'm nervous, maybe hysterical.