I fell asleep to the Bedroom Chillout playlist on Songza. I was thinking about how nice it would be to hear this song and when I woke up, it was playing. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I decided to listen.
“Walking in that room when you had tubes in your arms…”
February spent locked in a room, white, snow white, wafting the air – splinters of red buds with seediness creates an opaque effect, virgin suicides fill a metropolis (only two and a half hours, how ever will this work?),
“Those singing morphine alarms out of tune…”
Caramel steamers, gooey morsels melting alongside, blueberry smoke lingers, dancing on the airwaves for the chilly departure to our humble abode, we will discuss all of the things, blaming the slightest bit of apathy on our lazy culture,
“Something kept me standing by that hospital bed…”
Henry David Thoreau, a fallen tree near the riverbed, the Colosseum rock auditorium, shocks to the system, an infinite paragraph in a concluding chapter (a man can die, but an idea is forever), they will never understand, they will never understand, they will nev- and my mind goes dark,
“I should have quit…”