there are poems written for this big fat city by sick and tired poets not born in this city to the ones who has no idea about this crappy happy mad sad city which actually belongs to cats and pavements but not to the stars in the quite boring grey sky.
it's always summer time my mind gets blocked and locked. so lazy music with crushed ice and lemon souce. trying to figure it out, how many penguens left in this world. I will never see the north pole nor south. we are living in so similar and small towns with lack of oxygen and love. I would like to go on a date with a caveman. He could tell me about all sort of things and hit me in the face with his huge stone stick. life is unfair kill yourself or get over it. or maybe find a summer job, love, shopping schedule and take it easy. drink slow act like dancing. it's so hot in my room, can barely see my future. hope it works and he calls and calls and calls again. I started to hate my lovely smoking attitude. let's call it a day and fall a sleep.
bambuuchia. where are you scooby doo?
listen to james and his all dead friends...
we are in need of a musical revolution. in need of. in the darkness, there is so much I wanna do. I shall blame it on the boogie. play play play, study steady work hard. hiç de bile gayet şirin, hıh!
<3
today I is happy. me is a hungry cherry smelly lipstick like dancing on angelina jolie's lips and that's I call a huge rocky surface.
I dressed like a pony and went out for some printing issues. BUT I guess, the butthead printer guyz thought the saturday as a freaking extra holiday. some cardboards and some f word plus 3M spray mount killed my pocket money. arrest the suspicious border people, too. so I walked around and came around and wondered around. taxi drivers are so chatty and that makes me sick too. so I'm happy now, monday will be an extra ordinary day full of bumbum.
thank you for the fish.
in need of a deep damn holiday,
i never ate taco.
