with only my secrets to keep me warm

失去語言能力.



at last at last at last/ what worried me just a little bit
August 19 2004 at 5:24 PM
(Login heavyhorse)
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wasn't the complete freefalling calamity of friendship this London -as -a -map -of -the -heart- summer was set as a stage for. old love disinterest cordially accepting virtue's invitation to obliterate the scene's obvious overload on operatic fueds and all to tirelessly choreograph flirting and even quick breathless love or so with mirror thin teenagers from just north of nowhere at all.
''of unremarkable'' I said all along, quite nonsensically you'd 'aye' in reply. 'We are great friends'
that she was wrong in dismissing the idea so violently. lovers can be friends, no? I mean, in ages after the infinite. You know I don't dwell on these things.. but..the heat changes the body so dramatically. sudden confidence where blank stares often make do with themselves for company

after all that I gave
and was left gawping to look on as it was put aside, and finally carelessly dropped and then long bouts of lets pretend stalemnates, and tuneless worthy success stories.
elsewhere whatsit was changeling from friend to fuckwit and now I'm here, listening to my name being shouted up at the window by a tearful hallucination (if only )
don't want to fight tonight , not with you, or myself or noone. I wanna dance and stroll through raindried streets . take a squeaky wheel rickshaw from Soho to Mount Plkeasant and listen to saome records in the 3 4 5 o'clock era that lets me be.


[Love On The Dole]
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