I feel as though I was seduced by the world and all her cinematic shameless self-promotion. I wonder what it'll be like when I meet the girl of my dreams and everything is fucked? When I was a child I used to think the glittered specks on the ceiling were little holes where Heaven sat in the attic, because light was the saturation of color and it hovered above us. I used to think divinity rested, perched on top of our heads, and the halogen-lighted room was where the angels sang their praise-chorus. It resided above us, and it made sense. And where is my guilt? It's everywhere. I don't know, but I've been told, every little thing's been bought and sold.
Who else feels this raw shit? Am I the only one in my little circle? I'm drunk.
The most effective poets will whine themselves to sleep. Goodnight moon. Just stop talking now.
2 comments:
this was posted at 2:30 AM!! when you look at the clock and it's past 2, turn your mind off and go to sleep. life looks prettier in the morning!
I'll leave all the "sunshiny" writing to you!
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