The incessant whinging of white-eyed animals, five out of seven days a week. The suffocation of interpersonal routines. Children with myopic vision, too-tight britches, and big heads. Searching for escape vectors in houses with glass ceilings, and courtyards with dead-ends. Tethered by blood-fed Capitalist tubes, direct from bank account to ventricle. Seeing the bars past the gild doesn't make anything easier. Perhaps the time approaches for pharmacy raids, in search of blue pills and sedatives.
1:15 p.m. - 2018-08-06
Recent entries:
X-Ray Vision - 2018-08-20
Round and around - 2018-08-20
Alphabetic Alchemies - 2018-08-13
Splashless Skies - 2018-08-13
Driving Thoughts - 2018-08-13
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