Stairs climbing into ceilings, past afterthought waterworks. The pipe dreams of ghosts and altruism in the Winchester mystery house. Heavy plastic voices, and synthetically-aged fixtures. The breath of zombies hanging in the stale air of dead rooms. Minutes cheapening the curiosity at a slow crawl. Choking on the inevitable commercialization every single thing. Escaping through the stained glass balconies into broken legs, and more of the same. Scrounging heavy meals from expansive restaurant kitchens. Settling into the starlight and ribaches with scalding charcoal bath salts. Finally drowned into fitfulness by the pale ivory light.
5:22 p.m. - 2021-07-29
Recent entries:
A Curious Kind of Addict - 2021-08-20
Pixie with a D - 2021-08-20
Happiness Squared - 2021-08-13
The First of Many Unhealings - 2021-08-13
Only Two Feet - 2021-08-06
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