no one has given as much as i have on a percentage ratio basis
i am trawling through the waste. finished with the living, doing all those things put off for that tomorrow, for the time after, for the later, for the never got here.
kicking goals and burning paper.
breaking china and melting vinyl.
oiling leather and painting fridges.
the tomato plant is in bloom. kickstart a couple of companies, turnover on the book-keeping, go on a week away, relive a childhood memory. i am exploding again.
feel better in non-understanding. turn away from all the foreplay the flesh on the streets and fake leather couches. there is no fun in it over here, there is no letting loose, there is only holding on, taking everyone down in a descent of melodrama. pull your socks up son, everyone has to go sometime, but they will want to do it differently. many sets of eyes, one tree, live the multiple.
"i can't guarantee your safety"
did you ever?
i'm a disaster waiting to happen.