what a week — fuck me. barely sober enough to operate my fucking iPhone & yet here we are, just as the night in tokyo is filthy with humidity & the bar has full signal, repeater stations festooned across the ceiling.
i’m not sure what happened today, it’s a matter of presentation maybe, that is, how you present, faking it in the incessant absence that describes/ defines your days (meaning my days), casting no aspersions & yet somehow you’re a complete bastard & somewhere, more or less obscurely, this is not only approved but expected.
doing fine, doing fine, it’s ok, it’s alright, nothing’s wrong. selling everyone out? that’s not exactly, i mean it’s how you choose to look at it, right? walking down to / central reservation / in last night’s red dress.
if today is whatever i want it to be, how come i can’t figure that out?
metacruft: fone fotos | here = tokyo
31/07/2009 @ 21:26 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
31/07/2009 @ 21:20 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
31/07/2009 @ 13:59 |
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metacruft: fone fotos | here = tokyo
27/07/2009 @ 01:29 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | twitter
26/07/2009 @ 00:01 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
24/07/2009 @ 23:04 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
24/07/2009 @ 08:47 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
23/07/2009 @ 07:38 |
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metacruft: fone fotos | here = tokyo | pokemons
21/07/2009 @ 19:17 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | twitter
19/07/2009 @ 00:01 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
17/07/2009 @ 18:03 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
17/07/2009 @ 09:19 |
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metacruft: here = tokyo | poems, poetics
14/07/2009 @ 08:12 |
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