Reeling Over Spilled Life
2004-04-23 @ 10:06 p.m.

Spilled blue, once more, a temporary fragmentary array of lost conscious replays in small movies reeling with flickering specks of dust obstructing the film... The words don't go in time with the movements of their lips.

Glass broken on empty sores from scratchin' for days down by my Sycamore Grove in the evening after we'd come back from the stores of that downtown urban chic center-ville called home... Re-burnt were the days that lived matchstick lives; ready for the picking-- to be snuffed out.

Never got to drink from the ready-open containers of life, liberty, or the unending pursuit of happiness, so we hitchhiked to the nearest grocery and stole a couple of beer cans for the cause. Illusion fuels delusion in a massacre of sight and thought and anything that can be thrown in, so a psychedelic here or there offered some moods for the pickin'.

We held the glass brimming with experience premature to the time when we should have held it...

You've lived too much for your age...

...we wrinkled as hags do before our time. We grayed and faded before our time. We experienced before our time... or was it just that we were ahead of time?

We're running out of time.

<<before - after>>

The Weather Underground - 2008-11-12
- - 2008-05-06
She knows I can read. - 2008-05-06
William Jacobson - 2008-05-02
Lost Boys - 2008-04-30

everything © Claudia (2003-2008)