Standing like a model in a motel room-
jealous eyes can't open the blinds.
Every time, every time.

Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames.
These are beautiful songs for damaged people
that don't think they're all the same.

They taste like formaldehyde,
so hopefully they'll preserve me.
But, instead, they burn the room
as they kiss my neck and collarbone.
Lapdancing on my loneliness-
Please, let me remove my eyes and hands,
because I've seen and have felt too much.

You don't understand:
everything is ideation
and demisexuality.
Double entendre:
I'm a toxic lover,
I have girls around my waste.

Take a look around and see how damaged everyone is,
and how universal they are in their illusory disguise,
"How can we be so smart if the last line was redundant, guys?"

Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames.
This is just a mediocre song for damaged people,
so they believe they're not all the same.

Don't feel too much.
Remove introspection.
Be self-absorbed.
Feel no affection.

Imaginative energy flows in, around, then out of me and I can see in it the key that opens up the world for me.
Clouds of pirates floating by are dressed as clouds up in the sky, firing catapults of fun filled with laughter at the sun.
Daisies growing in the field for bumble bees to land and steal, then take their ***** home to be, made into honey cakes for me.
Imaginative energy the magic all around with me and if your eyes are open wide, come in and join me on the ride.

"Here is my heart and soul," she said.
Out on the cold table she laid
her all. He whispered, "I'll place your needs above
all mine." Little did she know he lied.
He played a little and tossed it aside.
Yet, somehow, she still believes in love.

©Aastha

It's 8:38
And I'm worried I'm going to be late.
But I go on and on to procrastinate.
It's not even amusing, what is this that I'm choosing?
I'll cut my nails, I'll stare at spider's webs.
At the moment I have no time, I suddenly find things to do.
And in the times I have too much time I have never things to do.
I am going to write a letter, I am going to check the weather, I am going to read a book.. Well I haven't the time... I'll just have a look.
I am going to learn how to cook this and that, I'm going to buy a funny hat, I'm going to find out how to ti different knots, I'm going to see if I can squeeze any spots.
I can take my dog for a walk, I'll phone a friend I fancy a talk.
I'll change that bulb Iv;e been meaning to do, I'll re-read that thing about why the sky is blue.
I'll find those candles I've been looking for, and organize my sock draw.
I need to chuck away those clothes, I need to quickly blow my nose, I really need to tidy up the stairs and plump the cushions on the chairs.
I could practice my guitar, I need to learn to drive a car.
It's 8:48
Nah, I won;t be late.
I could squeeze in time to hoover up, I can squeeze in time for another cup.
But of course.
I do non of this.
This is entire Gibberish.
I know I have no time,
I can't begin one task, I'll be there for another hour
And I still haven't even had a shower,
so instead I'll just procrastinate,
thinking of the things that could make me late.

There was once a random fusion of cells who answered to the combination of sounds that when ordered in a particular way together said:
'G E O R G E'
    and he fumbled and stumbled and over used his words,
and one could hear him from miles around gobbing and yobbing. Just one big sound.
That tongue never stopped rolling, and noise never stopped emanating. A walking compressment of carbon molecules in-disguise, his secret persona being a speaker.
And he would speak out of his sickingly momentous beak.
And make others quite tired and weak..
All hours for a whole week
an infinite roll a pancake chatter.
natter and tatter
a roll of noise
a one man band come splattering and chattering in through your life and then he would yell over the hill again.
And like in some chapter book in the law of physics it is often understood that when a subject something exhibiting noise gets further and further away from the subject, the sound becomes less and less due to distance.
This does not apply to a George.
And like the sound barrier,
WHY.. what is this sound BARRIER you speak of?
if you go to this such barrier, and take a left and follow this ruckus of English yells you shall find him somewhere way above yonder.
Having a *** and having a ponder, who ever knew you could do this so loudly? who ever knew one took this so proudly.
Inhaling oxygen.. exhaling carbon dioxide?
Inhaling? Nein. drawing breath? why does one need rest? valuable seconds are wasting, I need to keep on sound demonstrating.