everyone looks B'AH.... B'B'AAH bad on c.c.t.v., esp. when buying the usual suspects on camera...
i heave 'ere the assorted limbo menu for: a bottle of whiskey... why oh my my... aren't you impressed?
what... saint-denis... shooting and subsequently eating testicles? does it, or should it, even matter?
no... not really... i have avenue V in view... and i'm like... i tried to reason with the world, i am lost to the world attempting to reason with me... the world can be what it does as best: implementing the feud of increments in the 0.000 basin... tiresome reprieve... i, ship, having sought out a basis for a harbor, finding none... Paris circa 2004... it snowed, i felt inclined to don a hood... and...
if i were to be bound to the chains and shackles... and i didn't "feel" like talking? it's almost pretend in faking weak... nearing being *****, being a bank-boy-broker... it's like: waiting, and i fudge myself into wanting to: pluck a plum and mantra: michael myers:
ian brady wanted to be ingested by the Ganges with a score from Berlioz... to accompany him...
me? anything by Händel will do...
Eden's Cain Superstar...
to have to refrain from entrusting the stature of journalist, being akin to politicians: to heave a lost belief in journalism, qua equal to politicians?
and i haven't killed someone, in that, the grey didn't wake anyone, nor tabloid laid anyone to scoop up a worth sleep...
and, it's as if... what is to remain is a slim's scuttle's worth of: the dire, and what else remains to be uninhibited breed.
little people & their little agonies... baron folk & their... stipends in agitating days of having lived and yet: being outlived...
shavings & scraps upon the tide's whims, lost, yet orientating: the breath of sea: against the tired sire of the broken bread of the entombing shore.
as i am to heave a broken ankle, a fractured wing... i am... pebble on the puzzled-word's worth of chess, pyramid of pawn... and: sly move - an agitated kin of king.