elanamatic: Stoopid monkey
The plots in my mind turn sinister as I walk home alone through the downtown on this thickening autumn night. A strong breeze forces yellow leaves to rain down from the trees.
I remain inside my head, where it all seems so much truer, stronger, more vibrant. It tastes better, it plays smoother and it feels so much fuckin' better than it could ever possibly be.
Do you know what I mean?
