Oh banal eruptions! The boredom of the furnace is apparent tonight. This is a time for mediocre pleasures and barely shifting ideologies. I feel what you felt what they feel something before and will again.
Come up for air. Your drowning has been replayed in infinity. Just like naked eye visions these stars have been dead for years. And so have we. Someone change the channel before we lose all attention.
So, today you were interested in the making of atom clusters and tomorrow you won't care about the intake of nourishment. Am I supposed to follow along or just record your plate tectonic movement? Carpal tunnel afflicts the least of us.
I know that tides are of the moon but I know that I don't know anything about tides, your tides, your tides. May they wash some reasonings up on my shore. I will be the one clutching the sad junipers upland. I would yell to you but my voice has been carried eastward and you aren't interested anyway.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment