|
Post by mcbakkos on Mar 25, 2006 18:14:01 GMT -5
d then because of frog splash you wake up a little and see in the sky a hot-air balloon shaped like the head of Vincent Van Gogh. It turns slowly like the atmosphere and it looks at you. At this point you know you are BULLSHIT and will never cut your ear off or do anything else in commitment to your vision, if you remember what that was through the fog of tiny deaths and compromise. The balloon is looking at you for only so long, and, while it does, you don’t know what to do, it’s too significant, panic. It turns away and you are jealous of who it sees now. Your time is done and you are fucking lucky that the last thing you hear is the Melvins.
|
|