The sense I have is that we're being addressed by a barely audible witness and we have to keep ourselves clean of whatever romance of resistance would hear it only as camouflage.
Picasso's bulls, cowering into a telescope, swallowing the moon, come up for area, come up for place. A swooning cash register opens on the sky. We get high... We get high. We get in the right fights. Come out more alive. Silver dollar spyLord beginner ones. Collectible hero statues from the quiet troop of uninterrupted myths too. Commissioner of stardust breathing in. Amphibian, amphibian on both sides of a wide-blooded kingdom tucking an indigo into the unknown again and again together I get the sense the onlooker is a lack we instill in our lives to get to one another so what so what so what so what
sense is since I can I don't have to go there unless I feel like it cause I am the actual best version of what is this thing called.. and that's the way it will have been
