and staring into the abyss, but it was not dark. With the sky lit a
crimson red, I picked up the only shoe that I managed to keep with me,
it was the left. But I knew I should have left. As it was not cold, my
skin singed, it turned out that I was staring, I have been stunned, in
this waking nightmare, the shadow of the sun dissolved my retinas, as i
could not, and wish not to see no more. I heard a sound. And another and
another. Indigo dreaming and florenscent bliss do not exist. Distant
and gone, I did not believe in Atlantic travels at the time. And perhaps
I never will. I will remain trapped, I guess. My hair, what was left of
it anyways, will always remain stylish, that is what concerns me. As, I
have taken solace, here, wrapped in my obsidian blanket. It consoles
me. Radioactive calls, and blood curdling screams scare me no more. I
don't like West Coast living no more. I don't like thought of sinking
lower and lower down to the ocean floor, yeaaaah down by the sea... She
follows me. yeah? No. She has deserted me. I'm thirsty, I'm tired, and
my maelstromic stomach churns erratically,
I can feel, it coming
over me. By the sea. Way down the sea. I am becoming whatever I want to
be. Shipwrecked and landlocked on desperate times, the clock never seems
to lose steam.
Burning coal, oil fueled combustion
Ignite my Pacific Burning Dreams.
Wake up.
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