"Feel my steez burn down houses and infant trees.

I represent from the suburbs
(can you taste the weak breeze?)"

Silence from the speaker.

"Sir, this is McDonalds, not a fucking recording booth. Order something."

I run away from the drive-thru, laughing to humor myself.
I have no money. I have no mind.
I cannot taste. I promise myself I will taste things someday.
I'm a disgusting liar.
I've been absorbed by all these big human-being
and by snotty McDonalds employees
by hugeness speed and the big smoothing hand of some maybe God
running through his maybe world's hair
pushing down the
happy ones,
the ones who
remember how.

I (this, we) have been created by the

Fuck you,

Sincerely, maybe even sincerely as hell,
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
this is exactly what i needed/wanted to read. aaron it's phenomenal. i love it. i think like this a lot.
ooooh god I have so much love for you. always think and try to write it down.
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist

e-married to
& alaskan_ninja

the wittyness is the only thing that i think could potentially carry this piece, and it didn't do anything for me. as a whole, nothing really hit home. the end especially was a let down and just seemed a bit immature, but not in a clever/witty way. i always enjoy your pieces, but this one seems too wrapped up in try. this isn't meant to be harsh, as you know i'm quite fond of everything you typically write, but, blah.