You hope they come through with the magic.
Everywhere you look is bleak and people are behaving in their ever-so dull ways.
(No magic)
That’s when you die.
That’s when you buy a pint and brown bag it, go hang with the folks by the railroad tracks.
Bleakness and pestilence,the proper horsemen of the Apocalypse,,,
No fuckin magic around..
No one is nice, selfishness is king, the entire universe revolves around the television station that is youuuuu.
(See someone climbing up the ladder?)
Kick em.
Kick those bitches off into eternity, took too long to get here.
No magic in that.
No spark or moment of novelty..
Sigh…
Take an ultra soft blanket, wrap it around yourself like you’re an Inuit and you’re posing for the Cover of National Geographic..
Soft in here.
Hard out there.
Brutal,, but in here?
Smooth corners and everything is clear..
Glass…
My instincts..when dealing with a combative type, an aggressor, a bitch-made-ass-bad-boy (2pac)..
My instinct is to bail.
Bounce, escape, shake the spot,,
Time will get them eventually and there’s no reason to give my energy..
But..
You live for the dollar and they are perpendicular to you doing your task, and therefore getting your dollar..
Resistance.
“In the way”
The death of magic.
Everytime you bend your knee to them, every time you kiss the ring.
Hope you’re hungry, there’s a giant shit sandwich that needs eating.
There’s a Cadbury Egg full of diarrhea with your name on it..
Railroad tracks don’t seem so bad,,some days..
The death of your spark.
What a drag.
Alright…I vented,, it’s passed.
People are fine.
They’re great!!
And I do like a few of them.
I really do.
This mean ole mood is just that,
It’s a mood.
Not an identity.
Smile emoji
I’m here for all the stuff, not just the good stuff. I want to put eyes on all of it.
dawn 