the starving traveler may ironically bite the dust
walden freeman
Posts: 511
on hot asphault and in empty caves we've surrounded sound. ready, waiting to pounce. yet sound shows no fear and in fact implies more candidly than ever its willingness to drown us all in our own voices in our own heads. et cetera, rinse and repeat, on and on. our walls are painted green, not with paint but with envy for what paint can do when applied to canvas after canvas to cover up the dried blood of great fighters gasping for their dying breaths. it's funny how we react to actors, as if to mimmick them for mimmicking us, we all become clocks, armed and ready to hypnotize anyone who dares take the time to watch us.
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