is the Assumption of Our Discontent.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
How To Make Dry Oil Mist
always raining. only that sometimes the rain does not wet
It always rains. Only that sometimes the rain does not wet. The strength to go forward is more of inertia. Slide born between day tired and mental wards. The succession of sun and moon made me dizzy. It made me think of you. My biggest failure. I'm not the best of a lot. Better.
I can not accept me, but I can tolerate.
I can not disappear, but I cancel.
I can not fuck you, but I can masturbate.
I can not see, but I can hang their heads.
tolerated. Cancel. Masturbate. Lower the head. That's all I do for a living. But this is not living, this is shatter, scatter, limited. This is mutilating the soul is waiting for Godot. It is destroyed. 
It always rains. Only that sometimes the rain does not wet. The strength to go forward is more of inertia. Slide born between day tired and mental wards. The succession of sun and moon made me dizzy. It made me think of you. My biggest failure. I'm not the best of a lot. Better.
I can not accept me, but I can tolerate.
I can not disappear, but I cancel.
I can not fuck you, but I can masturbate.
I can not see, but I can hang their heads.
tolerated. Cancel. Masturbate. Lower the head. That's all I do for a living. But this is not living, this is shatter, scatter, limited. This is mutilating the soul is waiting for Godot. It is destroyed.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Fifth's Disease In Blacks
see you at three-quarter to p. level
and I wanted to cling to the earth axis and stop the world. Then I looked around and the sun shone still. cinguttavano birds anyway. the sky was still blue.
maybe it was better that way. you went in the most beautiful summer day. everything dies, especially people. and with you a piece of childhood. but it all goes away. remain afternoons playing ball and Holidays in Trentino. and the days at the lake. and the appointments of three and one quarter the level crossing.
something remains forever.
no one goes so far as to be forgotten.
RIP 
and I wanted to cling to the earth axis and stop the world. Then I looked around and the sun shone still. cinguttavano birds anyway. the sky was still blue.
maybe it was better that way. you went in the most beautiful summer day. everything dies, especially people. and with you a piece of childhood. but it all goes away. remain afternoons playing ball and Holidays in Trentino. and the days at the lake. and the appointments of three and one quarter the level crossing.
something remains forever.
no one goes so far as to be forgotten.
RIP
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