Everything is beautiful but I tell myself I can't rub rivers out of my hands alone.
And even though I am sure that a true capitalist can have no friends I can squint and see their logic written on the backs of nice napkins and immigrant workers
Instead of listening to me you should type them all into Wolfram Alpha and see what you can set to filter out. I have made so many homes in time that I can still feel my bones move from nowhere to nowhere else, all at once.

I carry the thought of you like the memory of 8 months of seasickness after one side of my head changed course. I'll never take pain killers again or even laughing gas and even now i can talk myself into a panic attack when I'm not carrying a pack of gum and a bottle of water and i know its a fake addiction but its all i've got now or then. And I've fallen for the idea of making myself vulnerable to you. i've never known such danger as our talks but by getting laid in public parks and you're still just a thought and i'll come to you the day that i can build cubes from smoke and gesture. I've always said you spoke in right angles

if you can find a woman of sincere love you'll be a river running through a black and white surrealist film in a darkened bar. the dice will roll but it won't be that you have bet anything. you'll be able to be happy and be able to think yourself into being a cat or a camera on a kite string you will talk to crowds about nature and the feeling of running and you will give five empty syllables to the sky and the rain, boulders will call you by name
boulders will call you by name