Saturday, June 30, 2007

I wish I was a messenger
And all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon
Shining on your Camaro's hood



All that is sacred, comes from youth

Dedication, naive and true



With no power, and nothing to do

I still remember

Why don't you?





I am in talks.

Talking.

Negotiating the rules of engagement.

(Do not engage the enemy. Repeat: Do Not Engage the Enemy. Pop smoke and wait for extraction.)

Things are being orchestrated.

As we speak.



Whatever it is you want to think, just go ahead.

Think away.



Think til it comes out your ears.




I like your picture. I keep it with your letter.



I feel like pulling the plug.

Breakfast table in an otherwise empty room.

The time I spend doing this feels suspiciously wasted.

I mean, really. Why?

Why do we keep pictures?

Why do you?

Don't feel bad.

I wouldn't know what to do with me, either.

Or you.

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