Haven. Paradise I wish I could lose. Perfection would bore me - it's the flaws that give a diamond it's sparkle. Knees. Calling. Cackling. Death sucks. All in the details. Brick surround towers above. Sky not visible, but there none the less - watching. Eternal vigil. Cry like rain. No tears. Not for a long time. Would be a show of emotion beyond my numb bruised heart. Self afflicted. Self infected. Insects. I cannot stand this much longer. Vision. Fission. Dreams of fusion. Tower of bricks built without mortar. Crumbles from a breath. Black wind blows. The cows are laughing. The owls hide above unseen. Unheard. Unnatural. Not what they seem. Nothing ever is. Blue scarf. Silver ring. Grey-brown horizon. Don't you just love the city?
Thursday, 14 October 1999
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