Thursday, June 9, 2016

Tricky, imagery.

It's not that you're stagnant, or moving too fast. You gotta move fast. The fingers hurt now and you're getting old now. Everybody has a sad, sad story. And yours ain't sad the way you think it is. It's sad from my side. That's not what you're going for. Not that kind of sad. Carny sad.

And I ain't looking to pick fights with Carnies. I know a little, and a little told me enough. I know where to put that cotter pin. Big sum bitches. That'll hurt ya.

See, I get tired of making pictures for people sometimes. Because no one cares enough. It will never be enough. I can break your heart in Sydney. It'll never be enough. I can explode, and all I'll want is to do it bigger the next time. It's competitive, seductive.

Sometimes, I just want to talk. Can't we just sit and talk? I feel like we never talk anymore. And I know, it's busy - life - and you do what you can. I know. I think the same sad, worn-tread thoughts as you. Damn it. I slipped up.

Tricky, imagery.

1 comment:

  1. And that's the truth. About wanting to talk, not about slipping up. And cotter-pins matter. Even to the folks who don't even know what they are.


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