WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

The machines all around become, become connected become Thing, become Movie, machines are light, very fucking bright. I saw a new hamburger restaraunt last night. It became mighty. This light zaps. What a sight. It made her hair purple and stockings bright. It made pizza taste good. It made the album called Disintegration by the Cure in 1989. I am on pills. Are you on pills? Can I touch your pussy in the dark, under a lamp? Romanticism, romantic glow. I love. Writing is fun. Like the Industrial Revolution. A nation of boutiques. I jerk off in public sinks. So pretty. Pretty sad, pretty boots, pretty guns that shoot feelings and conscience. I like early 80s movies, happy fun and tragic purple hair. Lord, it’s a Bourgeoisie town. The suburbs. Basements. Led Zeppelin. Tunnels. Led Zeppelin. The Virgin Suicides. Disintegration. Romeo and Juliette. Dark tunnels. Hot sun. Hot Toddy. Hot 19 year old girl who talks too much. Dracula’s Castle. Led Zeppelin. I did not say much to that other and her otherness, I didn’t scratch any itches with her, I just said I liked her boots and she liked that and it was nice. And then I sat and waited for the next sweet situation, without taking an overdose on government information. I love purple hair and fun. I guess we’re all mutants, turning into light. This year was sweet and sour like sweet and sour skittles. I am not a reincarnation. I am just another open book. A book about old money gone limp and lame like an X-box game. I like cities that have ceilings as high as cathedrals. I like to explore space. I got some here, there and now. New cake is fun. Boredom is dumb. Don’t join the dumb club. There are pigs in space. Muppets exist. Ask the Queen. All you need is jokes and money, maybe some love.