new tablet, lost time

got a drawing tablet, this is the first piece of crap i produced, dedicated to my homies, jan & vinny.

try tearing paper into perfect squares, it will cut your fingers

synthesize me

a love song, miss. i want

to be

back on the road.

get the bass

in sync with the

blinkers & send me somewhere

new like

CO or AZ. let the roads

be my web &

cradle me in cold front.

baby, i want you, i want

you.

can't you hear me barreling down

the road? i'm lost, i am lost like

a reindeer strayed

from the herd.

sometimes things are too

disorganized to trust in. good

friends & time are all

you need. music helps too

& that's okay. i think bass &

treble are the neosporin of

serious problems & in between

an ampersand sandwich, so that must be

true. i miss living in wholes (clearly

this is the case because i'm writing

halfway normal.

"if you're partial to the night sky

if you're vaguely attracted to rooftops

hannah takes the stairs

cause' she can't tell it's a winding spiral case

is she outside-in?

or inside-out?"

[freelance whales] "hannah"

"insomnia" [rynn williams]

this is how i feel now & everyday

"dear lord jesus,

my eyes won't close

& my hands won't clap

& my hair won't grow

i'm so lonely

my mind is gonna go

if i don't find me a friend in the snow

you've taken more than i owe.

i want from no one

what i need from you

i've got family, they sing through the fun

they've got a son too spineless

scared now to run.

say you love me & show me some fin

tell me life don't weigh a goddamn ton

i swear,

my back is just a drum"

-hair don't grow [annuals]

maps

& atlases

"dancing old linen
& crooked eye hole cuts
we walked in steps of math
& now in closet candlelight
writing songs for ghosts to haunt to"

the sorest of times

got your thoughts on my mind.

t-minus a week of

school left. three finals

& a paper. should be

permeating what little

space there is

around my brain but

thoughts of an

overpacked car on

the interstate

(with the windows

down & the music

in motion)

nothing but the open road

& eleven

hours in front of me. it's

all i can think about.

don't wanna do work.

don't wanna write

or memorize. just want

to drive,

drive, & drive.

"sixties remake" by tokyo police club

"to the harbormaster" by frank o' hara