astroturf

freudian grip’s slipping, might need a second opinion, as long as she’s a professional, maybe a mermaid, i’ll drown if you advise me to in ondine tones

basked in that old time bowie glow, videos meant for the precise state of mind i was in, new psychoactives, and it’s 2008, when did that happen? telephragm zam, hard, nigh impossible to be as artfully crazy as those 60s 70s 80s icons, now it’s michael bolton crazy now that so many dates have lapsed – been stood up by apocalypse yet again, still standing, strung out on heaven’s high hitting an all time low – this string doesn’t stretch far enough, lost elasticity, i’m bunching up – my last temptation, a hallucination on the electric chair