I've run out of almonds this year. All that I have left is the consolation prize of a bitter taste of cyanide in my sinuses. The power lines behind me undulate like a Richter scale once a month. My whole world turns to static, like in a CGI horror film. Choppy, blurry, sudden, jerky movements while I struggle to hold the holes in my head closed.
1:57 p.m. - 2016-07-25
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea