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when your makeup runs....
Freaky.... @.o... Oh well... Feel, kinda bad... wanna write... something... down a highway, where the speed whips my brain and tells me the only thing moving is the car... Stupid brain... And the probe Probes the Brobe. And then I took some extasy and almost died? OOps, that's not it... Gott DVDs... everything's fine with DVDs... and a little lone-time... that's good too. A God? Male or female? You'd think the people would have realised... Turned everything around... But nevermind... You're watching a movie on the top of a cliff... it's called the sky, and it's full of the sad, the baad, the broken and glorious....Except it's all an illusion...
I went into a pub, and hoped no-one would notice me. They did. And they all stared. And some of them laughed, but not at me. So I watched it all go by... watched it all fall away, and break, nothing was useful anymore... And I found out there's always a way to escape it, except it breaks everything... Just another prophet without a lucky break. Poets sit around tables, deep in disscussion and rotting away. Male or female? What does it matter, they're always rotting away. Some try to fight the decay with bibles and black books... oher live with it... Embrace it's dirty, stinking vases. Either way, they both rot.
Oh Mr Crabby... why dost thou see so much? gonk I don't know if I spelled that right, but it sure got to the point didn't it?.... *there was a long period of silence, whilst Mr. Beal searched for his credit card, or his gun* There are some things that just shouldn't be allowed to accumulate, like dust... And it's the same with people. It may seem like it goes on forever... And it does, so you just have to get used to it... Because there's no way out... I see you're reaching for your gun, Mr. Higgins. That can't help you. Not Mow, not ever. Because it's eternal, you see?
Mr. Higgins obviously didn't see... He left his entire fortune to a man in Venice, no-one knew his name, but he ended up a very, very rich man... And that's the end of the story. "Huh? But it can't be?" Ahhh, you're a smart one, kiddo. I was lying, it isn't the end, it's never the end. Not ever.
"Can you picture a world, far from here? Where the bridges are paved with silver, and the women come ready lit? You probably can... But it can never exist, can it? You know that, you could work all your life, and there'll never be Silver City at the end of it... Just one big Chromium Forest, and one long dirt track... So what can be done about it? Your dreams can't just be allowed to slide off into nothing, you don't have to keep to that dirt track forever... You'll just have to be brave, and build your own city! How, you ask me....."
It'll be revisited many a time, by weary, dissilllusioned pilgrims. Their tread may be light now, but they're tired, all of them, so tired that they may wish to die, so their feet will drag. So you have to make this city, strong. The buildings must be heavy and dark. Yes... make them black, so that you lose your way, that they confound the senses and send one nto delerium. Yes... Only the cunning will survive, in my City of dreams...
[.bradmond.] · Sun Apr 17, 2005 @ 07:22pm · 0 Comments |
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