flashflashflash.
we go back down the vermin hole.
i only wish i could mean more than the hair raising on your neck or the angel and devil on whichever shoulder you choose. peter pan afternoons in the breeze of the suburbs of chicago. i hope were your mayflower. i hope were your plymouth rock. black magic and all. lets make a pact. it always starts with some small "i" and ends with an apology or "im just seeing the world"- i need to become me. you know what i mean? if i dream, i hope i dream of this.
shutter shutter click click. the dancefloor looks so much better when youre on it. even three thousand miles away. split one between the two of us. ruby red out of your nose. its so pretty. diamonds in crimson. we are this city. swapping spit. they wouldnt get it. because love aint a headline. now boarding seatng group one (of a kind). less writing more living. i cant wait for this weekend.
you'd give it all up for an arm and a leg, the right ones that is. or you'd throw it all away for a deep breath of air off of the coast, salty and warm. i am forever playing musical chairs with hotels and rooms and sometimes even hearts. it looks like the set of some play off of the balcony. the buldings dont look real. the lights are too yellow, the grays are too clean. walked in the rain today. thought it would clear my head. wash it out. but it didnt. it only served to make it more foggy. a noah with out the ark, lion with out the jungle kind of thing. its a lonely thing to be loved(hated) by everyone. i love the way my name sounds when it come out of your mouth and crackles through my phone. i know its strange. i want to write more but it wont come out right.
everything reminds me of you. i have to keep this city awake. sleep soon i hope. i only remember the things i planned on saying after i hang up the phone.
new york has been insane. the monkey on my back. personified by simi. he was amazing. all of the pictures where it looks like me and joe are kissing him are actually us blowing on his face, it kept him calm and sorted. he is in love with hot air being blown in his mouth- and besides who could ever expect us to dress in some designed bullshit for anything- 1880s represent. capes and monocles. but he represented us. i just cant even say the way the tears welled up in my eyes when i realized we could never be let down by you guys. everytime i think youre over us or whatever. it just makes me stutter. sorry for sounding stupid. im a bit tired. we have some cool things in store.
there is one single pair of eyes that could ever decode any of this.