2:40 am

What does it say of a thirsty young man to avoid bar scene with miles walking and to go back and drink chlorinated water and a big lonely apartment in the suburbia quiet of a well rested and time tested tomb a loud and chloroformed status of quiet contentment when the locus of control is faded out into a vague mystery of forgotten quiet and the memories all wink at one and other with intent to start a new kind of poetic motif when the canopy collapses and the groundwater wells up and the shrieking reaches a decibel higher than human ears can hear so we can ignore. We can so dutifully ignore and fall through until the end of time when that happens and the antique clocks with the clock master insignia fall through our eyes like placid comets melting before even reaching our atmosphere and then breaking up like constant strains of ridiculed contentious claims of well being. I am nauseous and I can barely hold it together. This is the result of throat pain and amazing music and wild well being as a mask. as a mask. a dull mask!