In the land of rain i live and i love it
the smell is engulfing me-that erotic smell.
This is that time of the year a bit early though.
Brings back all those sweet memories.
those beautiful memories
there's a place i miss so immensely that i cant even bring myself to tell you about it...that and i can't remember being there.i think that i have cried in the past couple of days over some such silliness that left my life so hollow feeling.Now..this ain't a poem
it isn't a story it isn't anything creative
i hope that i'm dumb sometimes and i just don't see the shit.
Einstein said that imagination is more important that intelligence
i believe him but i also imagine that i'm careening along a narrow desert road at 110 mph wanting to be struck down to die in this abysmal dry heat of a blistering afternoons paranoia and not have to worry about the beauty being eroded away by what i'm told is the way things are
f*** you i'm dead too & i have no one to drink a toast to my death with
fuck this the days get sooooo short around here whenever i think that the rain is my dearest friend
i miss her all the time
what is wrong with me
nothing i'm fine
and you ?
i find it so comforting that one day none of this will matter