i am too beautifully aloof to fuck with your miserable consciousness

there are days in this existence when it feels like time is eaten alive by wristwatches and irrelevance. and today is exactly one of those days. you see, 2 o'clock wakes make way to an afternoon of anticipation. sexy texts on stoops of gasoline dreams only to open potent cans of lateness.

yesterday i was a firm footed two-weeks notice. today i am a loyal employee leaking good evenings and yes sirs. but god be damned if i am ever to break bread with that man of success and misery. i am too beautifully aloof. "Cheer up, your not dead yet." not for nothing, imagine a motorcycle flipped on 9th avenue evenings. table cloths and chardonnay replaced by blood and concussions. imagine that. flash. flash. flaaaaaaassshhhh.

im a babylon-bound backpack maverick. paperclips. staples. and rubber bands. im just trying to keep myself together. im no different than you. maybe. that is, of course, assuming we are all crazy. im obsessed with colors messy, alphabet soup, and bass placement. my baby calls me bito. i like that. but for now, it's back to oblivion.

oblivion

i might leave tomorrow

oblivion

fuck it kid. i might leave today