ok so here is what we are going to do
i'm going to get a bout de souffle
what was i gonna do..
one thing getting to nether still need you
are you all here
one thing getting getting to noter
288 guitars 
i've been hoping  don't get much dumber 
and getting to noter
this movie is not yet rated
i'm kind of trying to decide
i will send an email to your parents
so… just off the bat 
your parents are not ok with that 
kind of thing
she was out there interviewing her?
right there… have you seen that? ok good
movie theater to hide
c'est rare
reste avec moi
ciao petite fiiiille
elle est la bas je crois
vous parlez français? yes
attention ma petite fille on ne plaisante pas avec la police parisienne
you think i'm lying? you are
i didn't see you
you don't believe me
bonjour mignonne
qu'es ce qu'il dise
les flics me recherche
parle le moi quoi? ca alors
tu es marie
c'est trop **** maintenant d'avoir peur
bonsoir madame
il faut absolument que je trouve antonio
accelere minouche
il est alle a monpellier
why don't you smile
it would certainly surprise me
sourrrit sourrrit
je pense a quelque chose?
je ne sais pas
je voulais être seule
c'est finis
tu m'emmene au champs elysee
au revoir 
tentez votre chance
un cafe alors
moi je peux pas partir
et puisque je suis méchante avec toi c'est la preuve que je suis pas amoureuse de toi
ahh c'est trop complique
j'ai envie de dormir
c'est vraiment dégueulasse
how would you relate
destroy the rules
young actors
....sommes seuls, cette certitude de nous-mêmes dans la sérénité de la solitude ne sont rien en comparaison du laisser-aller, du laisser-venir et laisser-parler qui se vit avec l'autre...
audition for the leading character
interesting combination
the criminal
just the edge of his frame
she seems innocent at the beginning
looking at his notes
just fyi i throw out someone
loving and desirable
playing off of that very consciously
you just not be working
archival stuff is on Facebook
c'est l'heure du gouter
de la glace au chocolat
working on your transcripts/ paper edits
that's probably not a smart thing to do
t'y va
Not this sense
that I don't know what the hell
a human girl is...
where’s the coast guard? 
just a spotlight gimme something
ca commence a 6h 
t'es cool
quickly
i smells like **** did you ****?
you are the love de ma vie
he talks like that he is french
she is like ze morning sun in ze...morning 
beautiful
ze temps is in ze essence
muaaah
is our classroom
i can sense the connection
the connection? 
the connection entre nous
so madame alezraa give me this much
i heard boss
he is not doing anything
to give me a kiss 
it's in the 1st tab
it's still there
you don't have to click
i can't save it, just stay with me
there is no word on this ****
i need the inspiration
you are my muse
c'est pour ca qu'ils sont si petit
small
je vais m'occuper de
the whole point of life is to rearrange it in a coherent running story
people don't talk in stories
cut each section
some sort of a story
nice
tu veux que je mette
ouai ok attends
elle est l'autre feuille
permien tu veux que je colle recolle decolle coupe recoupe decoupe
how do you feel about solving…I mean it's an interesting way to solve it…
〜flowed〜 nicely
it was sort of an ingenious solution
she's in the airplane, she's in the sofa
try to transition between the two subjects….where does your friend come from?
what it was like landing in New York, looking out the window...
the process of arriving
not really fair to say that
in the future, if you're going to try to tell a story…in their minds….what's the story she's going to be telling me?…..coming home
fill in the blanks
don't go shoot blind, that's the biggest mistake
does that make sense?
great!
wubwubwububwubbbbbwubwb
gloving is......flowing lights in sync with the♩music ♫
flowing in gloving is broken…
liquid
finger rolls
tutting
figure eight ∞
wubwubwubBAMwubwubwoosh
wave-like movement…basic thing….wrist in a motion
tutting is like the angles…. not um 〜flowing〜….like tetris
you want to more, rather than following
solid ⸪lights, ⸫single⸭ solid lights⸬
pink to green to orange to yellow to blue
advanced strobe, solid line of color [...] streak of purple
electronic, dustup, elector, house, trance…
you’ll probably never see anyone gloving to like, classical music ♬♪
my name is Henri Geneste and I'm a glover WUBwubwubwubbbWUBWUBAHHHwubwubWUBWUBWUB[ONE][TWO]WUBwubwub[THREE­]
putain c’est magnifique
je me demande si il fait ca la nuit, quand il arrive pas a dormir...
window thing, kind of dumped
either the ours magna or the I equals me squared²
like language, like art, there are rules
go out and break them, just mucking around
fix it, wanna make one, totally your creative decision
how awkward
a bout de souflle
totally revolutionary
ainrr
radical, argue truer, but it's jarring, that's one way to do it!
aware that they're there but not ⑈jarring⑇
close to wide…..there's a cut there but the eye can follow it
um i have to go...
bye henri!!!
bye!
bye man.
see ya monday!
the hair!! im gonna shave it this weekend
I've been to raves
is he, like, a straight-edge?
there's drugs…do you guys ALL go to raves?
how the audio?
looked cool, the rain in the background
DUHDUHDUH that's hard to do
a huge amount, i'm sorry but gloving without the music?
if he does drugs OR NOT, how he's enjoying it OR NOT, if it interferes with his studies OR NOT..
just FYI we were all young yesterday
two bodies
he's here cause he's not going, right?
are you interested?
oh i would be very interested
yeah i see what u mean
you could come with me….i could always take the bus
it'd be cool
moi elle sera belle
here we go!
woah
their audio visuals are not very HOT
hours per day?
1…2 hours a day
sometimes 30mins
mostly people, sometimes like little animals
mostly people
i look at their art a lot
really interesting style
environments
if i want to…how I see them in my head
stuff like that
usually kinda random
i pretty much self taught
mostly from practice
everyone draws…but i got serious about it, like very…6th grade
i don't like the idea of competitions
and mum drawing is like, something that's kinda important
a passion
not sure i would want to go into it as an industry
more than just art
for now im not really sure
alright
so our usual questions
eyeline! thank you
on the couch….at the end it was really weird
who was…sitting where?
where were you?
she didn't really even really look, she was too far away, she just kind of….looked
much…she might not have ever looked
with the eyeline…it was pretty steady, no jerky-herkys, there were several edits
forgive it cause there's enough change
you could follow it, you could see that time had shifted
the content demanded it
WOAH okay now i'm really curious
we could see it, but then it was on the something else
process the image
now we're trying to look at the art, now we need more time
arc? did u feel like there was an ◜arc◝?
umm yeah…..
how many hours a day do u draw?
try to make sensible out of that
is that they use 2 3 four…
uh...cut..i did….cut
the cutting itself is like a commentary on her
since i was little. when i was little
when i was little
but my parents, my family don't
hands and arms
collages, magazines
photography
big part of photography
San Francisco Art institute
graphic animation, we only had like 3 weeks
still lives, models we would draw them
we had like an exposition
the person my mom works with's husband
wanna do an artistic career
alright so
not the greatest projector ever
too much head    space    
a lot of nothing
it makes it a lot more interesting
i think it was okay in the video cause
what she was saying and stuff like that
fair enough but I don't agree
lost in this big sea of wall
you're totally forgiven
no questions
power of a well-placed microphone
fantastic
the beans!
alright
you guys are the wrong audience cause you all know each other's stories
good feedback
movin' on, okay
very frustrating
and now.....surfing! woohoo!!!!
30 loooooong minutes, it's a nightmare!
7 minutes
3 minutes
it's a 10th
there's something fascinating about listening to people…you can do it yourself later
bolinas, del mar, sometimes surface, livermore, ocean beach
......riding the waves…....man….....it's the best feeling
you're walking on water you know? that feeling…….i love the ocean
i love the water, after you get that perfect wave you just feel accomplished
that feeling…..is awesome
surfing, it's all about having fun..
you surf once, and….you know?
if you're a surfer, you have a love for the ocean
my, my grandpa always loved the beach, we would go there at two in the morning and just….
my grandpa died and he asked to be cremated, he wanted his ashes to go in the ocean, so we took his ashes out to the ocean
I remember walking out to the ocean with my dad, we threw his ashes into the ༇wind༅ above the ocean, and we looked down….
we want to get the pain!! and the sorrow! because we're vultures you know? we just zoom in to get his expression
little bit weird
i do, i like it
it's black and white
it's just a surfer, it's not movin', it's there…it's not always the same
sort of echoey
…the ocean, and so i remember my dad taking the….
too much archival? too much? not long enough? both.
there was sort of a disconnect at times
her story, you have to cut
when she says "CAT" i want to see a CAT, when she says "FIRETRUCK" i want to see a FIRETRUCK!!! i was like, okay, i  just went to school…
and now this?
or you see a woman that looks like a cat
it's hard, it's complicated, it's not given
so they just kind of ended
you guys im trying to help them
oh okay
hey you know what no no no you know what don't take any of this personally just be like oh okay
he's got a funny manner of speech
any thing else?
arlo says no
"it would not go well"
what IS the really great ending?
amazing feeling one can have…..
you feel like you own the ocean, like it's heaven on earth
this technique it's called killing your babies…i love that
uh what
he says "uh no no no this is a 3 minute film"
sad but true
we all get attached to things, we don't want to cut them out
just play with it, if you decide
we can schloop
can we watch
not exactly…here's..uh okay a quick heads up
oh
for this summer
advanced lab, art advanced films, screen-writing, animation and more
field trip!! i need to contact your teachers
what day? a thursday
almost all day…nine to three
we would leave here
now im gonna erase this

A famous "Barry Hodges" poem!

I was strolling along the Normandy beaches
In the close vicinity of Caen one day
With a very tasty piece of arm-candy to hand
When I found a bleached human femur on the beach.
Oh dear me, what thoughts this conjured up in my brain
As I imagined whose bone it might have been!
Perhaps some pathetic soldier boy landing in forty-four
Who got slotted by a gallant German gunner,
His eyes feasting on the sacrificial cannon fodder
So foolishly supplied for his target practice.

Then, as I grabbed my lady friend's juicy ****,
Causing her to turn and sink her tongue into my earhole,
We sank onto the sands in order to sate our lusts,
(enflamed by a very delicious meal of *moules marinières
and a bucket or two of well-chilled Muscadet sur Lie)
I thought, what the **** does it all matter?
This is now, and that was then, and this old world
Has become a much nicer place nowadays;
But how mistaken I was in that fond thought;
Oh what an idealist I am in a world of woe.

For, all of a sudden, a contingent of fat dwarfs appeared,
Totally naked apart from their luminous Uncle Sam hats
And the Stars and Stripes hanging from their arseholes;
How I marvelled at their disgusting shapes
(and how surprised was I to find their genitals
were of normal measurements and thus
rather intrusively large by comparison
with the rest of their miniature bodies).
O dear Lord and alleged Father of Mankind
Forgive their horrid ways verily and forsooth.

With a whoop, those demented military retards, [see note below]
The famous 118th battalion ****** Marine veterans,
A contingent of whom emerged from a portable toilet
(which must have been a bit of a tight squeeze),
Chopped my girl-friend up with their bayonets,
Whereupon I crapped myself in terror and pity,
Before retrieving the purse from the eviscerated corpse,
Realizing that her PIN number was still useable
Until 'les flics' discovered her unfortunate remains
After the shore ***** had partaken thereof.

Bouazizi, conduisant l’avion simple roue,
S’aperçoit de ces flics et entend leur sifflet.
Il songe à s’en voler, ce garçon maigrelet,
Craignant se retrouver bientôt sous les verrous.

Hélas ! il ne peut pas. Il pense sur le coup
Qu’ils seraient plus rapides ou bien que ses bons fruits,
Légumes et L'avion seraient vite détruits
Après son escapade, alors que d’aucun coup

Ou vol quoique ce soit il ne serait chargé.
Où est ce qu’il trouverait de quoi faire et manger ?
Le sang froid garde-t-il, sachant que nulle part

Il n’y aurait de refuge : chez eux il y a la faim,
Des tortures, et chez lui il serait sans rempart.
Il attend ou le fouet ou aux douleurs la fin.

Bic flics as you
place me
between your fingertips
Guide me to your lips and
INHALE
Taste me on your tongue
Before you cast me out
In a cloud of smoke
And watch me disappear
French inhale
As I swirl around you
Bring me back in
For round two

This road to recovery is quite long,
at times I feel so far gone,
life would rock in a band,
friend's lend a hand in quicksand,
had to learn this fact the hard way.

Failed the city,
got struck by an arrow,
the plot took an olive twist,
thought I had thick skin,
I didn't check my marrow,
I became blind to the sparrow,
so I pirated my chest's treasure,
the problem was not the problem,
hard to integrate broken parts,
deceit hides in the arts.

Playing catch-up,
lost the sauce,
cos now the defects are patent,
tan wears off away from the sun,
would be pointless to dress it up,
sin's proved real and so has satin.

Maybe I was shadow boxing,
fighting on the wrong hill,
perhaps this dark night isn't so serious,
maybe I should just chill,
should I ruminate those net flics?

Glad not to have a credit card,
my ledger would not balance,
life is turning to a heath,
some melancholic saga,
acted like a rugrat,
you could hear me going gaga,
played facebook like poker,
seems I played the joker,
was supposed to be a man,
became a cimbwi no plan.

Went ghost to being holy,
I didn't see the flying phantoms,
the wrestle is not a royal rumble,
man's never been hot though he looked warm.

right here before your eyes,
either a warrior will rise,
or another king will take an impending tumble.

Django's unchained gotta pick up what remains.

KILLER INSTINCT

The killer
was the type

of nice guy you
know the kind

you could bring home
to Mum and

even she would
fancy him too.

The nice boy who
could whistle all of "Oliver!"

Carry a tune
if called upon

crazy at Karaoke.

He adored apple pie
never refused second helpings.

Ate his greens
even as a kid.

Always cleaned
his plate.

Thought everything was
"Great...just...great!"

He cried at
"Chick" flics.

Always watched Christmas  re -runs
of "It's a Wonderful Life"/ "The Wizard of Oz."

He loved dogs
but was more of a cat guy.

And his victims
were always amazed

to meet their deaths
at the hands of

"...such a nice
nice man!"

working around the hyper-real... it was such a good idea,
to get rid of the natural grass and put "fake" grass
in the sections of the garden that required some greenery,
oddly enough: the fake doesn't feel like fake...
now i have a problem: i don't require a lawnmower...

i might need the leaf-blower to sometimes get rid
of leaves from the grass...
    the work is going slowly along... Sisyphus style...
but one tonne of sand... one tonne of pebbles...
working with the kango... working with that levelling
beast of a machine...
   father was working on the nitty-gritty detail of the slab
area for the table and bbq...
it's looking pretty...
          
so i was watering the flowers... some hanging...
i was watering the apple trees... the rhubarb that
went a-wall with these massive leaves...
the fig tree... the ferns... etc.
   after i watered all of my garden and started
talking to myself...
should i record this? no... i don't think the world
is deserving of this message...
i'll be speaking to the night and its phantoms...
i'll be speaking to conjure up a wind...
ha! "fame"... i'm passing through...
          i even managed to sing a little:
hieroglyphs in the sand...
hieroglyphs on papyrus and on the sphinx's
forehead... blah blah...

Tom Waits' Quixotic ramblings...
   a true retrospection...
               i'm not going to record any of this...
i'm a very private person...
mind you: this affair of me existing requires: ARBEIT...
work... i'm not after the easily accessible route...
for the people who ingest my productivity
to simply sit back...

it feels like an Infected Mushroom sort of drinking
session...
Muse Breaks... I'm the Supervisor...
hell... Bukowski wrote about the drudgery of work...
me? you ever spent your youth...
your 20s... figuring out how you didn't
encounter a monotheistic deity?
    
    die großatem?  wind and wind are interchangeable
when crossing borders between
spitfires and the messerschmidts...
    ****: messerschmitts...
  großluft... the angel-singing disperser...
tell that to someone who's 21 to shut the **** up...
i shut the **** up... i went missing for
about 10 years...

the great-breath...
                   my eyes opened and i was no longer
living in this world:
i began passing through it...
my eyes are still open... it's unlike any
hallucinogenic drug i could ingest...
i began my contemplating through the ears
and i still do...
by i see differently...

i was never going to record what i say
in private: to myself and the night...
it has become obvious to me:
once it was the abuse of power...
now... it's an abuse of technology...
and that's apparent... people have managed
to create a technology to abuse people
who in turn abuse the technology...
a synthetic alternative to ******* drugs...

to blink is equivalent to checking the screen
of your smartphone...
i remember the good old days of the internet...
do you think men do a lot of internet shopping?
personally... i'd love to return to the old
music store and the bicycle shop...
i will never get an order via an UBER or
JUST-EAT... i know someone will not eat...
what are the major complications of human
economics?! the solution begins with confiscating
the human libido...
but since capitalism has become rampant...
******* coupled with mass immigration:
somehow pointless jobs emerge...
well... not pointless...
but they're not jobs with the equivalence
for surgeons or dentists...

     that one time i thought: so why are these nurses
lining up to a singing contest?
they truly want to become mince meat
in the entertainment industry?!

i don't have the qualifications...
but i've been through some rough shifts...
"rough": ******* shifts...
i've heard of several instances of people
people let go...
me?! no interview... straight on the books...
i'm an employee...
the rest of the ******* are self-employed...
why? that question lasts about 2 seconds
before i realise...
   oh right... i'm good at my job...

i'm waiting for the time when the Wembley team
will want me to join them...
turns out i'm somehow an ambitious man...
im also post-psychotic...
so... danger danger...
     i've seen the horrors of a Bates Motel, sort of...
and i'm like... nothing human is alien to me...

Bukowski and the drudgery of work...
yeah... i have worked with some weirdos...
i don't mind... 10 years away from proper
civil contact with strangers...
i'm a fish in water...
                        
   this supervisor role... normal people have
this idea that they have advanced...
no... no you haven't...
i take the approach: you're below the pawns...
do you understand? i always ask them without asking...
you're below them...
a supervisor is a role below a stewards role...
you haven't been elevated to a status
of supervisor... you have become demoted to
a lesser role... because? how doesn't it work:
via ratios 1:16... contra 16:1?

             yet some people "feel promoted":
you're not promoted as a supervisor...
you're demoted...
                 me? i kept my stewards happy...
you want water? sure thing... i'll bring you a bottle
of water... you want coffee?
milk no sugar? sure..
   by the way... when the main act begins...
i talked to the kiosk guy...
   he told me that they throw all the burgers away...
can my stewards have these burgers?
no problem...
              happy: *******: campers... Yogi bear to tow...

i don't even have the ******* paperwork...
but i get ****** these roles...
even one coworker started looking at me ugly:
but i've been doing this for X number
of years... recently a mate of mine was
fired from the company...
i said: ****-all...
       but i sort of figured out...

oh right.. Mark vs. Mark...
      the part where he insulted him... insinuating he
was a homeless person?
    that part?! i had nothing to do with it...
in my head i was thinking...
either of these Marks doesn't have
a leg to stand on... they're both tooth-fairies
since they have such bad dental hygiene...
but one thinks he's above the other
yet the two are in a crab-bucket... but only
one knows it...

that's how you supervise...
**** me... 6 months in... 6 months more...
i need to get out...
no NVQ 3 stewarding *******...
just the level 2... but i'm already filling in...
better practice at public speaking...
i'll make a great teacher...
i'm eyeing up jealousy building up...
what's next? i sieve through more *******
i become a manager?

   then again: i don't want to teach chemistry:
i want to teach English...
i fell in love with the Dead Poets' Society and i can't
let go...

all these supposed problem cases...
woman supervisor... two female stewards...
what a transformation...
all it took was giving one some chips
to keep up sugar levels...
while with the other... just walking up to her:
asking her: are you happy?
everything good?
you want to take a break?
   take a break...

women invented ******... naturally women
are "****"... who is responsible for
who is allowed / not allowed to reproduce?!
men?!
ha ha...                   ah ha ha...

it's ****** into us... we had to find: THINKING...
ENTERTAINING... PHILOSOPHICAL...
mathematical...
if we all managed to **** to later become
fathers... seriously, you think?!
maybe that's why the rest of "us" start to love
drinking and also start to love scribbling
Ovid nuances...

sober women writing poetry:
             they're ******* force-fed adorations that
are not even remotely justified...
just... expected... because they are sourced
from ****...
    i like to source elsewhere...
             and not poetry: onomatopoeias...
pleasuring a woman like it might
be a door opening... creaking...
              a broken consonant on a hinge of a vowel...

i love working...
   i love the tired feet.. i love catching the last bus home
at after 1am...
    i love it... give me an axe and a square mile of forest:
you want a clearing?! give me a week...
maybe that's why i don't have time
for girlfriends... maybe that's why i can only
entertain prostitutes...

sure... last time it happened i was entertaining
two at the same time...
i couldn't replicate any of the *****-flics...
i couldn't be both **** and mouth...
i needed one to **** me off
into the other one's ****...
lazy? no... but i was working with Bourbon
and tobacco was the stiffening chemical...
so... no... no movie...

tomorrow comes and i know that i need to change
the rub-rub rubber of my breaks...
and how i need to change the tape on my handlebars...
and how tomorrow London will
be it's most beautiful...
and how you can add avocado into a sandwich...
as long as it's not merely avocado on toast...
but...
mingling with a chilli... a pepper...
green olives stuffed with almonds...
or pickled cucumbers...
   lodged either side of some cheese and meat...
lodged between two: cool... brown-based
buns of oat and pseudo-rye and probably wheat...

and how just finding about
KLAUS SCHULZE's - DEUS ARRAKIS (2022)
feels sort of like...
first watching Stanley Kubrick's
a SPACE ODYSSEY...
             because there are these immediate parallels
in the realm of postmortem...
               and because the night is a heaven
to behold... with all the critters and the foxes...
with all that demands a sleep within the confines
of a day...

the last message i sent Alice:
KLAUS SCHULZE - DEUS ARRAKIS (2022)...i'm currently listening to it... you have to break your patience... up to and including the 17th minute... after the 17th minute it's all downhill... sort of Brian Eno style with the Dune Soundtrack... Alice... dearest... i work my ******* off with what i write... you think you can entertain an audience with a flimsy "spare" of "thought"? i've been working on this ******* since 2005... now count the years... Alice... you approach the world as you have... i'll be the nice one... the rest of the world with ******* regurgitate you... i have seen how hierarchies work... they're not pleasant events when you need to bite your teeth and forget to have ownership of a tongue... please don't become more hurt because of the beauty that you are: serving the naivity of: what's best underserving in children: having to be falsely translated into adults...  as might be the conversation between Seth and Thoth... dearest creature... un-labour yourself with your imaginary dictates... you will never match to what i am surrendering to!

KILLER INSTINCT

The killer
was the type

of nice guy you
know the kind

you could bring home
to Mum and

even she would
fancy him too.

The nice boy who
could whistle all of "Oliver!"

Carry a tune
if called upon

crazy at Karaoke.

He adored apple pie
never refused second helpings.

Ate his greens
even as a kid.

Always cleaned
his plate.

Thought everything was
"Great...just...great!"

He cried at
"Chick" flics.

Always watched Christmas  re -runs
of "It's a Wonderful Life"/ "The Wizard of Oz."

He loved dogs
but was more of a cat guy.

And his victims
were always amazed

to meet their deaths
at the hands of

"...such a nice
nice man!"

*

A friend of mine almost got "strangled by the nicest of nice boyfriends" who just "glazed over with jealousy...just went into one." She left him and left the town...it frightened the life out of her. She said that one could not even begin to believe that this 'perfect person' could change...just like that. She always claimed she knew what it would be like to be murdered.

died young.
who’s to say it won’t happen to me?

they say change isn’t a bad thing
though it feels like a woodland monster
grabbing my arms and tying them together
in knots
i can breathe, but it’s heavy and uncontrollable

and you’re not even eighteen
yet
you feel so different
as a person
as a human
 as a creature
as a
i can’t even finish the sentence
cause i can’t describe you
help.

he was cornered
and alive on the highway
seeing signs become distant items in the desert sand
maybe his friends cried after hearing of his death
i don’t doubt it
cause he was so young
yet so permanently engraved in their minds

she is caught up in the tide of fake love
that comes around and swallows you whole
and then leaves you to cry on the floor
a waste of a few months
of cursing someone’s name
and
taking the blame
until suddenly you realize nobody loves you
as you are

and the moon she swells
with unhappiness
as the tides change
and you do as
well.
you think it is a good thing
yet it makes you insane
like a drunk driver upon the road
who is racing like a thunderbird

he will hit you, head-on collision
the brakes slamming hard,
but no use
and you’ll die as young as he was
did you know the gasoline would be your noose?

almost unrecognizable
almost delirium
almost a 180 change of perspective
you will dazzle in your movies
that’ll last for a couple years
until the camera gets too harsh and you beg it to stop
with your remaining adolescent brain
and your misunderstanding of things
so easy to comprehend,
you will get in your car,
tears on the steering wheel
speeding on the empty highway
you will lose your sense of direction
someone won’t notice your light
and you’ll be gone into the night.

don’t plead and cry now
this love is temporary,
you know it too.
don’t pretend that he loves you,
it’s not you that he sees,
it’s the opportunity for him to get attention
yet you’re naïve like every teenage girl ever
so stuck in your chic flics
you didn’t even notice,
him running away with your pride.

future is coming
future is coming
future is ****** and brutal
future is coming
it must be sad, trying to be melodramatic
all the time because you think you have to

you never know, the car could appear to be going slow
but you never know
how fast things can change in an instant
i hope you don’t lose yourself in the smoke
in the exhaust from the engine
i hope you know there’s more than one way to grow
don’t lose yourself under the influence
with a boy who’s dated all of the friends that you have

change is a strange
thing
deep and
consuming
i know you’re no james dean
pretending on a screen
so don’t become a chameleon  
unrecognizable,
they once said change is good,
but i’m doubting their answer
what’s your hope for the future?