Tuesday, November 30, 2004

ballad of a homesick fool

Everyday is a thorn in the belly. A recurring nightmare. A broken phonograph. An incurable plague.

A monotony.

Wouldn't go away. Adhering like glue, like a solvent that serves as sustenance to the rugby boys beneath the Kamias flyover. Hallucinating.

An emotional discharge. Orgasmic contradictions.

Looking for nothing. Wishing for something. Hopeless. Incapacitated.

I just want to go home...

latest musing of Etchie at 13:30