Squirt
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2000
- Messages
- 2,899
...went the door as it closed;
slammed, and
shut the story on itself...
the thrill of the spill of my will on the sill of the window of life, crashing down, tumbling forward, throwing itself on the floor but ssssssslipping into the drain, draining into the sewer, the sewage tainting its yellow-bellied soul with a stink and a stench;
the stink of my yellow-bellied neighbor fading into the sweet scent of spring daisies in a summer breeze, leaping over the throbbing heart in the grass that withers and decays, ridden and matted with hungry, greedy flies and bacteria...
hungry and greedy, i swim through life, the great pool of cold jell-o that is one resistant obstacle literally pulling me down. can't you see the little man at the bottom of the jell-o bowl with a lasso? he missed my ankle this time, luckily, but next time he may not.
luckily, drunken, and sprawled on the floor at the feet of the man in charge -- the only man in charge because he is the man thus rendering him "in charge," making his full title the man in charge... what's the hell is so damned special about the man in charge?
charging from my stomach, my gut, my innards, straight through my vocal cords and fleeing my mouth in the form of an obnoxious half-scream, half-laughter with a hint of hidden discord...
Slam!
...went the door in the darkness;
slammed, and
shut the story on itself...
------------------
"dude, if the quaker oat man can sell "life", i think i can sell death." -- ian
((official founding member of the stuck up/8 up crew))
"Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect. But, what it does mean is that you've decided to see beyond the imperfections."
[This message has been edited by Squirt (edited 30 April 2001).]
slammed, and
shut the story on itself...
the thrill of the spill of my will on the sill of the window of life, crashing down, tumbling forward, throwing itself on the floor but ssssssslipping into the drain, draining into the sewer, the sewage tainting its yellow-bellied soul with a stink and a stench;
the stink of my yellow-bellied neighbor fading into the sweet scent of spring daisies in a summer breeze, leaping over the throbbing heart in the grass that withers and decays, ridden and matted with hungry, greedy flies and bacteria...
hungry and greedy, i swim through life, the great pool of cold jell-o that is one resistant obstacle literally pulling me down. can't you see the little man at the bottom of the jell-o bowl with a lasso? he missed my ankle this time, luckily, but next time he may not.
luckily, drunken, and sprawled on the floor at the feet of the man in charge -- the only man in charge because he is the man thus rendering him "in charge," making his full title the man in charge... what's the hell is so damned special about the man in charge?
charging from my stomach, my gut, my innards, straight through my vocal cords and fleeing my mouth in the form of an obnoxious half-scream, half-laughter with a hint of hidden discord...
Slam!
...went the door in the darkness;
slammed, and
shut the story on itself...
------------------
"dude, if the quaker oat man can sell "life", i think i can sell death." -- ian
((official founding member of the stuck up/8 up crew))
"Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect. But, what it does mean is that you've decided to see beyond the imperfections."
[This message has been edited by Squirt (edited 30 April 2001).]
