the innocense of children inspires thoughts of hope creativity cherishment and beauty
there is the inner man who wants the strange woman to fuck-he likes it so does she
When something arises beyond the knowledge that already exists an immolation begins inside of us. He is the match and I am the flame the unfettered light. Watching him in his anxiety of supposition and solitude.
Rows of houses, all bearing down on me I can feel their blue hands touching me All these things into position All these things we’ll one day swallow whole And fade out again and fade out This machine will, will not communicate These thoughts and the strain I am under Be a world child, form