8/06/2007

It is difficult...

writing in a vacuum.

The world must cease to be.

The world without us... where cupcakes are free.

This aquarium sits on a fractalized squiggle, I don't recognize it, it's artificial.

Oh to bore you with details, to banish all reference points, to explode the sun. Oh to be done, being bored, to outlive the One. Bored at insignificance, lament the last living existentialist, to wonder why we create new digits, memory so easily erased, cannot be etched on immortal copper, bronzed and stuck in one place. I am happy today, borderline silly, all the way gay, love my sweet woman, we cycled by the river and kissed each other's shoulders - oh what a day.

An unnecessary display of force. 'These aren't the droids you're looking for' a quicker passage to my illegal Millenium Falcon.

2 comments:

Wanderlust Scarlett said...

I like this one.

By the way, if you've still got room for stowaways onboard that Falcon, I'll sneak along for the ride.


Scarlett & Viaggiatore

Bobby said...

automatic writing is better than cruise control and autopilot combined

If we put our brains together it would be a double hunk of greasy meat.