orion is once again hunting the clear sky and the nights are getting longer. the chilled night air is begging for me to pull out the colorful scarves i love to wear like a biplane pilot as i skate through the leaf littered streets. when i hear the wind whistle in my ears i hear invisible girls giggling and my eyes glaze over with wind-born tears. the sun drips behind changing lanscapes lending a pink haze to the underbellies of the pregnant clouds. the air is clean and hearty until a bus passes, billowing a toxic fart out of it's protruding anus, sauntering through traffic like a bull in a china store. a sign on it's side implores for local citizens to not dump grease down their drains and i skate in it's sooty wake up onto jesse helm's church and i can feel the whole world vibrate under me as i coast on the church's massive brickyard. up on the belltower of the church, like a dunce cap on a neo-gothic squat house, the moon sat perched, as if balanced on it's crescent side. and i giggled as clouds danced across this image and reminded me of a horror movie. and i couldn't help but think, now. now, would be the perfect time for someone to walk up behind me and pull the fucking trigger.
blam.
perfect thought. the end.
also, boo! the cat came home at 3am safe and sound, save for a few splotches of tree sap.
blam.
perfect thought. the end.
also, boo! the cat came home at 3am safe and sound, save for a few splotches of tree sap.
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[Edited on Sep 28, 2003]