My friend, I.
I live with my puffed eyes and warm mouth.
I live inside. An abyss.
Rainbows and crooked lanes, the abyss.
Hard potatoes and loose jeans, dark abyss.
Forget figures in between, forget things that feel.
Just high speed and incessancy.
And no end. So always.
So. A Sauvignon on toast. For my friend, I.
Or warm milk.
Anonymous said: Send yourself anons?
That’s a fucking brilliant idea!
Count from December to August man. Look around a bit.
Stalk away tho. ;)
Anonymous said: What makes u smile?
I recently got to do something like this with unknown friends. It made me smile. Then, I ate bad sandwiches.