the xx

The ash from my joint litters it's chewy black all over a working desk that's gone on holiday. I was thinking that if we traded our expectations for practicalities and antediluvian moralities, that's when we'd arrive at something greater. This notion thriving by forgoing the pop culture orgasm. This notion based upon a norm explosion with shades of bohemian bliss. Please teach me gently, how to breath. They'll tell you one thing and do the other. Everyone keeps shucking off dime-store quotes and it's getting to be regoddamndiculous. The best advice is abstract. The best advice we tell ourselves. The best advice gets delivered in one sentence of a greater nonsensical rant. Bars are group therapy. Street fairs are excuses for people to look at each other. Deserts are our souls. Forests are our hearts. Mountains are our brains. Lions are our creative energy, lazy male power, agile female huntresses. Devour and burn, explode onto one another, over and over again and see what shakes. Explosion creating decimation or fertile grounds. Explosion being the catalyst to our behaviors. Explosion being change, allowing us to mourn, forcing us to leave, grow, return, move forward. Move forward. Move forward. We gain so much of our lives by reason, we lose so much of our lives to reason. We absorb and participate in so much complexity. The liquid of our great story lives within the motion of our movements, work is applied force through space and time and I'll cross oceans like never before, so you can feel, the way I feel it too. My face is an ever-shifting tale of distortion and I'll mirror images back at you so you can see the way I feel it too.