Journal poétique.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Today

Woke up this morning, and lost myself in my unconscious cloud.
Today is.
Yesterday died.
Looking upon the world, feels like a sword on my chin.
Prayin' my dead god.
Spiting on their face.
Searching the key, driving to despair.
Fuckin' sad day.
Moody blues and rising stars.

Camille de Blainville

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