| from woop woop, england |
[Jul. 12th, 2005|12:38 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  restless | ] |
lewes kills creativity.
everyone is dead here, the streets are full of zombies.
i come home with a boots bag full of razorblades, throw handfuls of them from my upstairs window, and watch as flocks of disheveled squabbling morris dancers lunge for pieces of sharp steel like greedy squawking pigeons on the street below, a free for all, a free ticket to paradise, i watch as pale drawn flesh is sliced and the streets begin to run rivers of red, swallowing chip wrappers and pet cats and sorry excuses, watch as pilgrims fill stolen pint glasses from the gutters, drink their fill of aids infested death.
in 17 days i go back to asia. thank the bloody lord. |
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dors's journal
