blue green. your smile, your eyes. I know you hate me and thats too bad, especially with these fleeting moments. It could be nice at least. But its Okay, I’m really trying my hand at zen-ness… Driving my small car, people say I look funny in it. The car makes you feel as though you are scraping the street, your feet a few inches from the pavement. Blood puddings they may become. Do I remember the last twenty three years? Do you? History isn’t accurate. You aren’t accurate. None of it is. Its all a big cushion, this life. Soft and mushy. We bleed into it. World tokens provide, but I could give a flying fuck about them.