| Current mood: | tired |
| Current music: | the mars volta + thrice + the crownhate ruin |
like an accident
the dull grey current that like a tidal wave destroys
flow over me like a canvas
my grainy off white masterpeice
broken, without understanding
the thick milky wash, the paint brushes swim
fill every pore, fill every pore
make the paper grey
full effect of things less cunning
seventeen seconds ago, seem like distant times
now with autopilot disabled, we graze the tops of pines
cabin rupture, defeat without sound
cutting down trees like we should cut through clouds.
ground comes crashing in, the gravel is streaming,
sand like bullets, cracking, bleeding, screaming.
make black my bright photograph
i tried to laugh at the sun today, but the blackness took my speech. broken fingernails dig, in the treanches of defeat. define my aperature, make focus of my lens. i can't tell where the pictures stop and my still life begins.
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