Category: Time Machine
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An anguished chill hurts the night kingthe moans of traffic dissect the interstatelonely bellows of travelers of midnight passageand me, well meI don’t really even know where I am, who I am, why I amsome windy, flattened palaceof stone and glass and flickering neonand I a statue filled with blood…
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When you want to be someonebut no one knows who you really arewhen you’re living in the wormthat lives in your own bellydrinking dirtand eating poison winecrying to livelaughing to dieand everything insidevanishesand you feel likeyou’re living in a Neverlandwith a never hatand a never coatand you’ve spent every dime…
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The trees were immense and varied, the works of genius minds and artists, somehow altered by chemical gravity to bloom quickly like a porcelain doll with animal organs.
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“Seems like it was just yesterday I was sitting on your couch in your super hip Nob Hill pad looking up at the wall and admiring this painting while we got baked to oblivion. Those sure were some good times.”
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It was as if I was somehow always on the precipice between darkness and light and could just not get my leg over that highest rail.
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There is orderThere is disorderThere are purgative drugsAnd there are clouds to sleep on It was a day that was easy to dance toIt had a beatand a really good rhythmwith the angel ship standing there like she wassome great gift slipped directly from God’s palmsand she didn’t even begin…
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