or maybe she’s already dead or maybe she’s gone to mars
as was briefly illustrated via verbal communicado in the previous installment of this chronicle, Erie PA is a lonesome dove type of situation at the moment.
Freedom is a price paid for giving up all that seems to grant you free will. Without dissolving yourself of everything, you can only have nothing. The traps are set, a steady job is one. Family, perhaps, is another. Though only taken in the wrong context.
I’m staring into a blank empty hole that can fill itself as much as it would like but partial drips into a bucket only end up dehydrating, and I’m looking to overflow.
Sprawl out liquid and gas all over the big bad world, show the enemies of the state and church and mankind that we’re all just floaters, dangling in the tide and staring at the same shiny flip flop that is either the most scrumptious little morsel of sparkling guppy or the evil shine of man and their hooks, line and sinkers.
Swim fishy babe, swim.
Up Next: Evading Reality