Textual Dérive --~----~----~ Kinetic Phonetics

Existential Empowerment and Ontological Symbolism.

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Tastes Like A Sunday
Freddy Avatar
 January and everything turns to mush. Time turns to mush. Sundays in the store turn into hours of limp nothingness limping by, limping through. I fill my time with idle thoughts of tasty young creatures that come and go through my life. I daydream about nachos with my girlfriend later tonight.

My tea is black and bitter, just like a lover I’ve been trying to locate. Well, something like that, anyway. Emotions to that effect. I’m not looking for anything, I just like looking. Looking for a face to happen.

Yesterday was Doom Patrol, today is Promethea. I’m looking for things that can enlighten and inspire. I think drugs might be the way to go.

I keep repeating myself, and to the same people. Social guilt crawl up my gullet and lingers in my throat. I start to wonder what else I could be thinking about. Except when I’m thinking about her. Them. Those times and imaginary places. Drugs in the blood. Kisses on lips, or wherever. Bites.

She looks so tasty I’m still distracted. Why do I let these things happen this way? Because they feel so fucking delightful. Or the idea is fun, anyway.

Yesterday was our anniversary, which was lovely. We had a housewarming for J & A, with their baby due sometime soonish down the road. Lovely people, lovely home, lovely destiny.

Mostly I just seem to think about girls. Hmph.


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