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9/4/2006, 9:03 PM
the dream of a thousand tornadoes
there was curled up pain and unsuccessful backflips buckled over fetal grasps and semi-conscious double-dares while surrounding this immediately personal scene of failed attempts and misery was an ever-dropping and breathing black ceiling there were gathering crowds and the fear of impending devastation and the anticipation of a terrific show and when the fuck-you funnels started shooting to the ground one man's simple internal pain became as important as a hundred crushed earwigs people in the path of these stabbing tornadoes were disappeared and destroyed, sucked up like from lights of a spaceship, and a ruined world became the sharper focus. fuck personal pain take care of yr world.
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