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July 4, 2010

Images of broken glass they dance before me like a million eyes. They call me on and off, across the universe.

July 4, 2010

Tonight I am bathing in a sea of old sheets of paper and photographs, listening to golden oldies and longing for highway freedom. Heat is banging against my open window, leaking in through the small gap. So does summer night and mosquitos. Hints of dreaming days. But in my mind, I am not here. In my mind, I am swinging my hips to the rythms of  Beatles, in a crowded, sweaty and smokefilled pub, somewhere in the late 60s. Revolution is running through my veins, I feel drunk and I feel fine. I was born in the wrong decade, definately.

July 4, 2010

Come on baby, light my fire. Try to set the night on fire.

July 1, 2010

No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain’t got no cigarettes. I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

June 24, 2010

No dancing shoes have touched these dusty floors, for such a long time.

June 22, 2010

I wish someone could give me a deacent explaination to why people grow apart, love ends, foot ball is fun, john lennon was shot, why it never gets dark outside in the summertime, and why, as of this moment, my heart is a supermassive black hole.

June 21, 2010

The child you were, is someone you will never be again. No one can capture the dreams that shaped you, the images that filled the summernights with green suns and yellow snakes. No one can open the doors to the rooms you have left. The child you are is someone who will soon be forgotten.