my bloody valentine

these are the days of reminescence and of the great siege. all those tiny bits connecting by means of this reverberating music. war worried tv. free sunshine. the paranoia of the markets. silly rabbits. menthol. i spoke to the publisher. i told him how the situation was fucked up. he told how wrong i was when i thought the situation was fucked up. so here i am. another five months. i think i was not wrong when i thought how the situation was fucked up. and of course all those beautiful flowers of the past. i make them rot in presence. brutal sunshine. the lack of it. again and again. kill those bloody circles.

::: feed me with your kiss :::