2006-01-27

raincoats & spacesuits

There must be a way out of here. On cloudy days, my face is shaped like water. Another thought approaches: if I sit real still and quiet, perhaps it will pass without stopping. There must be some way out of here. Windows intercept all light. Shadows are permitted to shine. GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! These days, effects of the record store don't last so long. And the cinema used to be a convenient place to hide. Books are available by prescription only. Trees reject me. And lamp posts. Isolation can be treated but never cured. All humans are terminal. These EXIT signs are posted in a language I forgot to study.