All black and glowing. The midnight radioactive earth, and all its infectious harmony stands ***** in front of great cheese.
I headed toward the church. Perhaps the 'Papst' was giving a midnight mass, and perhaps the colorful windows drew me in.
It's always ever about the outer facade.
A man smoking his cigarette was only visible because of the light, the ember of his cigarette.
So I turned away, frightened and confused.
I looked back to see his silhouette from a safer corner. I imagined to myself that it was someone familiar.
My imagination fails me. My vision is all too clear, even without the help of the sun.
Can sadness be measured with coffee cups?
I'm a six today.
I made myself into a mirage of what scared others.
Different lures for different folks. Different lights. I was still **** too bright.
Perfection with a 7 is desirable in weak moments.
Learn from pain. Introduce pain as a teacher of the art no one can master.
Pain is a counter-clockwise rewind of measurement.
Two can draw the same picture.
I can do it better; give me moldy cheese and let me smear gray into a ***** sky,
let me give an unforgettable mass, the brightest light alive.
See the dirt in all its blinding glory,
and lose a soundless sight.