I will walk over it, but the words remain locked on blank faces, more
like a mysterious and elusive
character watching from corners often smiling and occasionally launching
into debates that would very soon scare off the other party,
everyone somehow seems hanging from cropped attention spans and the
self conscious need to get fucked.
a cold chilly rustle fills the fetid air, an outmoded concentration
of shapes cut through the air,
as we walk past our friends and look at them as if they were floating
i thought of you and i had a wonderful night. it was somehow the epitome
of my aloneness, which was like a
positive wake up call, like a voice saying hey babe, you can handle
it all just go placidly amid the noise
and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. as far
as possible without surrender ...
original texts by ody jarmann, natalie waldbaum, markus ensslin ~:)