es muss sein.

been cozied up into nightfalls like safety blankets from a sweeter life. i feel overexposed in the sunshine; everything turned out blank and white. all i ever did was build a tower of cards out of my winning hand.

we love making mistakes we can count on to trip over. we all want to fuck the messiah and forget the message. we only want to be able to breathe in time with the swift, passing days. we crave the negative as much as we seek out the positive.

you call it balance; i call it being with you.

mouse in manhattan.

ran off down smoke-shrouded roads and empty lightspots last weekend, only to be blinded by phosphenes and star-crossed supernovas. but then again, all the sleeper hits i'd written (off) were comatose.

i'm not earning all of it back, but i'm scavenging.

there
is
nothing
out
there
that
cannot
be
mine.

good, take that thought and hold on tight. keep feeding the dying light.