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i bash my self to sleep - 2003-10-04
And it won't ever stop hurting. You'll put on a smile momentarily, like a Christian record, and it will make you feel good like a rush of heroin, but then it is gone, and falls away like baby teeth, and underneath it all remains the sterile landscape of reality. People who have been heartbroken hesitate to complete their sentences, preferring rather to splice one last hold onto hope into the narrative with a comma or semi-colon, like a weather vane bolted to a roof; a vain attempt to interpret the weather. disobey my own decisions I smelled autumn today, and there was a pile of dead leaves collected in the lobby of the local KFC. I tried some boneless chicken wings, and they looked and tasted like McNuggets with stigmata. wake up I have few dreams in this life, but one is to be interviewed... and not man-on-the-street, CKCO TV interview, but rather a sit down interview. Over lunch, or gin and tonics. Even better walking the abandoned rail line with a schnauzer and a pack of Gauloises. Hmm, that may be another dream. In that dream the schnauzer is beige. And not so German. And that's enough. Song of the moment: The Beta Band - Dog's Got A Bone
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