Obituaries: Morning

[Sepia]

It all turns into a cloud, it all turns into dust when the day has ended and it's already dark, salutations to the sun falling on deaf ears. The darkness chews away at the city, werewolf snarls heard throughout the streets together with the lamentation of the death of the city itself, mad prophets walking through the streets trying to find a meaning in them ending in a cell because if you're doing a shit job you need decent drugs and decent drugs aren't allowed with haute couture.

Reality smells of wet asphalt, wet dirt, wet filth and hope and we sample it as we sample everything once and then move on to a different sphere where men in jackets make caviar from coulis and we realize so much about our life as we do something completely different and time disappears from the equation and as we stand in the shit we realize something, a truth and for many people the truth but we're too busy to think and analyze we're just there in the moment, the only thing that has ever existed and we push away all doubt and ego and we dig into it, we swim in the chaos and we dance ballet and we smile as everyones worlds ends but we have seen a light, formed of chaos and born in dementia and a sort of madness, a faux madness, controlled most of the times but sometimes Crowleys old beast rears his head and amidst medium minus and medium plus that old whore, the terrible beauty is born and we flow with it, get dragged into it, seeing from every conceivable angle at the same time, twisting into the birth

The day ends and everyone leaves, the moment is gone and it feels like you didn't get what you desired, you feel cheated and one hot summers day you realize it and you fall to your knees and we are truly enlightened, an entire ship of pirate-monks waiting for the rush to arrive

and were still waiting

[Bu🤠ns]

I love your stuff.  I always read it aloud and, for me, it always leaves a greater impact.

Thanks again!