joshisgross

The arm raises itself, paying dues to a lowercase god that raises shrines to itself. An invisible soundtrack whispers and screams in my head of a life found again on the pavement raising questions and concerns to its subject unconcerned with anything opposing its path, The senseless noise invisible in its volume, becoming a pleasant ode to life, smiling glassy-eyed with its speedy white noise blocking every attempt to understand itself. May it be we'll pass on the road along the way, maybe listening to the same soundtrack - in phase during our waking hours, then a babbling static of sleepy mumbles. Silent lips move just ahead,

Jack twitches and scratches incessantly. His years of drug addiction would be obvious to the most oblivious boor. His face is ruddy, and not because of any hard work or strong wind. He sniffs and rubs non-existent stubble. He looks like a chipmunk when he stands up to get water, his jaw gnawing like mandibles when he drinks. He can't eat out because he despises the sound of anyone else chewing; it drives him crazy; he would go insane if he didn't leave the room abruptly or, better yet, refuse to go out in the first place. As he always did. Cocaine makes one very sensitive. He's harmless as a butterfly with amazing ability to pull money out of

When you gave me reason to worry When you made things rough When we had to rough it out When we had to face our fears When we had to face our tears When we had to face them When I got let down When we let down When I let down When I realized I let down When I realized I let down first When I had no need When I had no greed When tea came cheap When music was good When there was no stress When there was no drama When things were going well When friends had no drama When friends had no stress When my job was easy When my job paid well When everything was going well When life was easy When life was amazingly easy When lif

somewhere in a far place I pictured beautiful white sand leading to an ancient land where money makes them happy and musicians play for free there's one group of politicians and no one is a member doctors cry when people die and dentists aren't scary green tea for everyone. somewhere in a near place everyday, there is black dirt underneath a new and frightened land money still won't make them happy and musicians are greedy as can be politicians, everyone is a politician and no one likes them doctors still cry when people die and not all dentists are scary give them some green tea

Seven new shirts, and seven new shorts; or seven new skirts, of pretty sorts. So much time spent on new clothing and scents, on anecdotes and jokes. When you meet the one you want to marry, you smell like sweat and cologne, you're all worn out of clothes and you have nothing left to say.

Since emotional feelings come first and foremost, treat them as a snail, with a grain of salt.

We're overachievers not used to success. Though vain, not used to compliments. Though pessimistic, not used to reality. Our history goes back thousands of years, But history books go back billions. Still is too much reached for - not enough in our grasps used.