thirty three

if only things stayed that way
peter pan had a point
nothing good came from growing up.

thirty two

if paradise exist what would it be
indulgence euphoria
unmitigated simplicity
could have been the aura from the single first step
or just plainly the sustenance received
plans will be made to revive this dormant withheld scene of consciousness
for now it lays contented knowing that such a place actually survives
exists.

thirty one

back from my long hiatus filled with hunting santa
following specks of crumbled spiked breadcrumbs
to lands never set foot before
back into an chapter befitting a holga perfect picture
but all was shattered in eleven hours

little flecks of snow
how i wish it would know
to stay where it were be
frozen frozen like i know.

posts about the past will be made
just visualize watching back to the future.

thirty

the picture being too grossly ugly for human eyes.
but it was my achievement
four: twenty six: twenty nine
popping happypills with my running shoes.
thanking my tunes

that old guy still trashed me though.

twenty nine

my only hope would be the fortytwo dot oneninefive monsters out of their cells chasing me.
cramped every possible sound grunt and nudge into my tech band bursting at its seams
bubbling over the edges. second savior.
the very least i had a rockin real meal before i tumble over implode and meet my match.

twenty eight

what we need now
compassion.
empathy.
and
warren buffet to spawn
like hell.

twenty seven

the accident.

the ending.