fastwind

i have spent years developing an interchangeable, fluid skin which both rips and thickens in odd layers at its own unpredictable discretion.

as i grow up, responsibility quietly compromises all of my dreams and sprinkles pessimism everywhere.

i boringly observe everything around me and only find any truth in nature.
the longer i spend around people my own age, the more i like my parents.

on some old cassette players, when you hit fast forward and rewind at the same time, they would become stuck and made a horrible repetetive clicking noise until you hit down harder on one button to put the other out of its misery.

i love useless self indulgent metaphors, they behave like laxatives.