Another summer, lone wanderer
soaring through empty streets;
High on the city's quietness,
I chase the sky's hue: an indigo fade
calls to memory, asks of it to another place.
Cradled by the vibrant melodies
of my Lunatic Harness, I hurtle into the nightscape

A month ago it was fall,
Now it's summer. I recall sensation,
A breeze ambles through the conifers, an evergreen
shivers as if in frisson, swaying against our dark indigo sky.

Social company was wonderful this weekend,
I am not hungover this June bank holiday,
But bad luck did befall a friend's ankle.
Last night I drank northern Buckfast
and smoked West Coast Therapy.

I have this sense, what connects us,
I thought it mere memory, what is
beyond that; why should we reach
out to it, or it to us? How is meaning
given synchronicity, two things berift time,

Those dopamine Roses (Imanbek remix) have me
craving mischief, they know the way;
I know of no other
reward

The past on repeat, calm me.
Either "my head is a jungle" or my life's a maze.

Told myself I should get to America by 27.
I hear some euphoric vocal.

Earlier I took naproxen, esomeprazole, paracetamol
to alleviate the strain caused by excessive screen-time.
I'm such an addict. Was it a lie, that I managed to forget?
Me, a dopamine ******.

I hear the echoes of a lone house party
spill its tunes upon this cool summer night's aer.

I listen to the soft breeze carry sweet music
drifting across our kenopsic city.

Lounging from my bedroom windowsill,
I imagine what potential
our lives have

and wish for strength to make it real.

Soft earth between my fingers

breathe sempiternal
to shirk the sun.

I'm leaving
"the days that must happen to you".

I'm gone.

"How will we ever get out
of this labyrinth of suffering? -AY
Straight & Fast."

I hear you

The thought occurred to me again,
Whether we should praise forgetting.

Sometimes I think it would be a relief
to delete everything
so the time that's passed falls to our wayside.
I don't know why
I consider living this way. Is it wrong?

You read the straw that broke the thought I rode in on.
It was a blade of grass once.