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Bluelighter
Coded in static...
Personalized greetings delivered in the guise of family mail. His head is just pounding as the veins beat in his forehead, images of green, red, and blue silouetted insects flash over and over...
Beads of sweat drench the 250 thread count cotton sheets. A girl is sitting in the room with her legs crossed, she is wearing thick black framed glasses and has a banana in her left hand. I prop another pillow up behind my head and crack my eyes open. My mind swirls with the visualization, quick bursts of vibrant colors and pictures of the banana paint a picture of Warhol and Velvet Underground set in an abandon psychiatric hospital. Behind the chain-link covered windows the bleak grey winter weather seems to be punishing the earth.
Mini dixie cups filled with rainbow spectrum of pillls
Sounds are similar to a cassette tape being eaten alive
Whaaaaaaat...?
Green linoleum
maddness
Private line-up and salute
As I escape thru the underground labyrinth they call the sewer system, I pray to God that the night janitor I have been slipping Halcion and Seconals to gave me the right route thru this shit-hole.
Red, White, and Blue manipulation
Stars circling his head
out of touch
out of tune
Tune or tone like that of a fork at Thanksgiving dinner that drops in slow motion and twangs into the highly varnished maple table breaking the silence in the room, images of a movie pop to mind. The Ice Storm.
Love that contrast between a richly colored green bud bursting of fruity aroma and that of a goldenly tan skin. Simple equation, greenery + filtered sunlight + old wooden personal library = mathamagician
out of line...?
I am going to a place where I have never been before. Nobody to greet me when I get home, Nobody to call at 3am waking my insane head up, Nobody thats the point. Isolation will breed insanity, which will soon fester with disgust and resentment.
Thick yellowed sheets of watercolor paper are the backdrop for some young childs insect collection which has grown brittle collecting dust in the attic, spider-webs and some random Grateful Dead tune seeping up thru the floor boards.
A few floors down a skinny girl (breath-taking I might add) sits crosslegged on the wooden plank floor. Wearing a worn T-shirt with a picture of a hand planting a seedling and the caption "Touch the Earth". Sitting in between her legs is a simple 1 foot glass bong still smoking from the slider, she is spaced out staring out the window lost in her thoughts...
The end of the day brings rest as she saunters across the radiant heated tile floor up to her medicine cabinet (double doored) and as she opens it the halogen bulbs brightly shine light thru the glass shelves and seem to shine a halo around the little amp of Ativan. Grabbing that and heading toward her huge empty bed she sucks the liquid into her syringe and does the deed. Passed out cold, still wearing clothes, TV blaring some hypocritical CNN news wrap-up...
I can not belive you got a devil up your sleeve...
A light rasp at the door goes unanswered as Ethan cracks the door open and says, "Mom...?" Walking in he goes straight for the purse sitting on the dresser, the aching in his bones propelling him forward. Ethan mechanically snatches a couple hundred dollar bills. Cool and Crisp to the touch.
Score, relief, numb,
I am awoken to the rain whipping against my window. Instantly I reach under my pillow and rip open a bag of heroin and quickly cook it up. I am once again covered in beads of sweat as my shaking hand jitters as the tip of the needle pierces my vein. Sinking back into my bed, sounds of Marilyn Monroe singing "Dear Mister President, Happy Birthday to You" drifts into my memory. Why I dont know...? I enjoy my rush and lie back content for the moment. Seconds later I am reaching in my drawer and pulling out that sweet, sweet marijuana I procured from some kid (who has the fabled green-thumb) and loft sweet clouds of smoke hang lazily in my room. Managing to pull myself out of bed I stumble downstairs and eat a fresh cupcake. I roll up a unfiltered smoke and walk out into the cool autumn air. 4 or 5 quick pulls of the cigarette leaves my head spinning from the nicotine buzz, instantly my head starts to thumb.
An oil painting of multi-colored leaves blur my vision as I fall to the tile, when my eyes open minutes later a Box Elder bug is inches from my eyeball as I watch his antennas (sp?) twitch and seem to smell me as his eyes scatter the mindless lifes throughout the globe.
blah.boring...
Personalized greetings delivered in the guise of family mail. His head is just pounding as the veins beat in his forehead, images of green, red, and blue silouetted insects flash over and over...
Beads of sweat drench the 250 thread count cotton sheets. A girl is sitting in the room with her legs crossed, she is wearing thick black framed glasses and has a banana in her left hand. I prop another pillow up behind my head and crack my eyes open. My mind swirls with the visualization, quick bursts of vibrant colors and pictures of the banana paint a picture of Warhol and Velvet Underground set in an abandon psychiatric hospital. Behind the chain-link covered windows the bleak grey winter weather seems to be punishing the earth.
Mini dixie cups filled with rainbow spectrum of pillls
Sounds are similar to a cassette tape being eaten alive
Whaaaaaaat...?
Green linoleum
maddness
Private line-up and salute
As I escape thru the underground labyrinth they call the sewer system, I pray to God that the night janitor I have been slipping Halcion and Seconals to gave me the right route thru this shit-hole.
Red, White, and Blue manipulation
Stars circling his head
out of touch
out of tune
Tune or tone like that of a fork at Thanksgiving dinner that drops in slow motion and twangs into the highly varnished maple table breaking the silence in the room, images of a movie pop to mind. The Ice Storm.
Love that contrast between a richly colored green bud bursting of fruity aroma and that of a goldenly tan skin. Simple equation, greenery + filtered sunlight + old wooden personal library = mathamagician
out of line...?
I am going to a place where I have never been before. Nobody to greet me when I get home, Nobody to call at 3am waking my insane head up, Nobody thats the point. Isolation will breed insanity, which will soon fester with disgust and resentment.
Thick yellowed sheets of watercolor paper are the backdrop for some young childs insect collection which has grown brittle collecting dust in the attic, spider-webs and some random Grateful Dead tune seeping up thru the floor boards.
A few floors down a skinny girl (breath-taking I might add) sits crosslegged on the wooden plank floor. Wearing a worn T-shirt with a picture of a hand planting a seedling and the caption "Touch the Earth". Sitting in between her legs is a simple 1 foot glass bong still smoking from the slider, she is spaced out staring out the window lost in her thoughts...
The end of the day brings rest as she saunters across the radiant heated tile floor up to her medicine cabinet (double doored) and as she opens it the halogen bulbs brightly shine light thru the glass shelves and seem to shine a halo around the little amp of Ativan. Grabbing that and heading toward her huge empty bed she sucks the liquid into her syringe and does the deed. Passed out cold, still wearing clothes, TV blaring some hypocritical CNN news wrap-up...
I can not belive you got a devil up your sleeve...
A light rasp at the door goes unanswered as Ethan cracks the door open and says, "Mom...?" Walking in he goes straight for the purse sitting on the dresser, the aching in his bones propelling him forward. Ethan mechanically snatches a couple hundred dollar bills. Cool and Crisp to the touch.
Score, relief, numb,
I am awoken to the rain whipping against my window. Instantly I reach under my pillow and rip open a bag of heroin and quickly cook it up. I am once again covered in beads of sweat as my shaking hand jitters as the tip of the needle pierces my vein. Sinking back into my bed, sounds of Marilyn Monroe singing "Dear Mister President, Happy Birthday to You" drifts into my memory. Why I dont know...? I enjoy my rush and lie back content for the moment. Seconds later I am reaching in my drawer and pulling out that sweet, sweet marijuana I procured from some kid (who has the fabled green-thumb) and loft sweet clouds of smoke hang lazily in my room. Managing to pull myself out of bed I stumble downstairs and eat a fresh cupcake. I roll up a unfiltered smoke and walk out into the cool autumn air. 4 or 5 quick pulls of the cigarette leaves my head spinning from the nicotine buzz, instantly my head starts to thumb.
An oil painting of multi-colored leaves blur my vision as I fall to the tile, when my eyes open minutes later a Box Elder bug is inches from my eyeball as I watch his antennas (sp?) twitch and seem to smell me as his eyes scatter the mindless lifes throughout the globe.
blah.boring...
