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remote control juice: an introduction of sorts
i sit so convinced i am smarter than the rest.
i write notes to strangers and flirt with the binary left tho of center you will find the cerebral cortex seducing medulla and leaving me along the wayside in favor of yesterday's tea and tomorrow's cigarettes. i pretend to be solid in this, not to let it bother me, live a little, lie a little, ignore a red icon and obvious shut eye. hush little darlin don't say a word, mammas gonna by you a mocking bird. crow. robin. red breast. rewind. pantomime. phantom sugar sucks dropped in a bottle of c2, what do i say?


penis envy.
i'll laugh till i hurt. i'll cry till my eyes fall just short of south and then.. i'll capture the flag and frame it so i don't forget what its like to be forgotten. close friends speaking listening and its unrelated i suppose or at least i try to keep it that way, clean lines till i ask...is it ok? and am told ouiouioui all the way home, but he said he needed to speak with you and then went off on some ting about it.. which means only a few things to cipher code ten. and i'll sigh and boughs will break and the electric currents taste like cherries clichéd and made red, fuchsia shadow boxers traced on my lips. and its not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, its just i don't like going cold turkey.


i took off that day.
i left town that day, i cried into a hypo-allergenic pillow that morning because more than anything i wanted to skip town and run run run over channels run over train tracks run over life lines and make something else go boom. correct me if i am wrong, but that's a paradise of the fourth degree. never escaping always changing, held up so close to the lite bright night light and i can't sleep these days for fear i'll dream... about sleeping snoring. seething soaring, flipping the last tick trick tock and crossing the red and blue wires, not doppelgangers. posted. to a far away place, knitted uneven. 37 not 36. high high high ho it's off to work i go. and i know i should never let an exe be a boss. i read the news with a half red eye, and notice that another bites the dust. the greats are leaving. HST. always made my writing messy but taught me to live life like i dreamt it. caught in the back ally way like that deal gone down bad.


hack.
i am.


still, i sit so convinced i am smarter than the rest.





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›3/10/2005
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an introduction of sorts





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