HaroldLovesMaude

I love.

The sky A purpley bruise over neon dots on black Trails of white zooming past trails of red. It midnight when you arrive and never when you leave Imprinted upon bed sheets and tucked away memories I see hundreds. Thousands. You go home and have a mid life crisis. She dies. He… doesn't make it there. Lost on silver deadly tracks. I'll get off at the green place that reminds me of the Simpsons. Lockerd halls filled with girls in short skirts in various sodomizable positions. Is this okay? This is expected. I'll lose it to you and from then on it's yours. To share between this collective man. I drive by. She crosses this street

Sleep eludes me. Tangled in sheets and shadows my mind refuses to wander. But stands fixed in one spot. Left side of the brain suicide. Evolution, from one ape to another. The Savannah theory can't explain how I've gotten this far. This far backwards. Recessed into this animalistic mental state of Freudian desires. I am told when I get on the bus I strip everyone with my eyes. I do this and eat a candy bar and feel fulfilled. Man and beast, beast and man. An unsymmetrical mirror image. Pi. Life circles. Art circles making everything I do unoriginal and bland. Stuck in a rut. Stuck in limbo. Between here and the Sublime… This d