tokyo

can you feel the same? the agrammatical "yes, i can't" i s perhaps the best answer. glimpses of my private tokyo. the digital sky. the breath of concrete flowers. bodies ... swarming like bees. the discrete wax of tomorrow. on the night of indecision. this and only this i recognize as my life. next day i will listen to my bloody valentine's loveless for seven hours. i will take a photograph of an antenna on the house i live in. then i will imagine someone who has crossed all the bridges in the world and seen the both sides of everything. i will also dive into my computer to recollect what the ocean left there. )(guarding the eternal halo of all things)( later that day i will try to make an album of all my desires; each would be represented by a picture of some house. on a sundown i would stare at the eyelids of the sky. the endless re-birth of a non-person. yes, i can't. i know.

::: She's just so something new A waking lithium flower :::