too much whisky - not enough talking - disjointed writing

but what would you define as “hanging out”

so many actions and words are taken in the wrong context.

everything is the wrong context.

fuck context.

why can’t we just feel in this

nonchalant way and exist in this way...

because aren’t we told that

nothing matters and we shouldn’t care...

i care about you

all of this poetry is subliminal (sublime!)

since cards have been invented we’ve been dealt this hand

what’s your constellation?

i think i’ve seen in before

didn’t you catch the same rollercoaster as me?

maybemaybemaybe

there's certainty in the sky

please let me know why

all cards have certain meanings, just like stars

and just like human beings...

but i can never, ever tell what romantically

drowned lovers want from me

for i am nothing but uprooted and bloodshot

i am very intoxicated

but hopefully you are too

taking advantage is one of my strongest points...

whether connected or misdirected

you mighta heard your lucky number three times

you mighta heard me up close

fuckwards, right?

five all right

backwards, frontwards,

who really gives a fuck

fuck. fuck. fuck. i am very intoxicated.

all i want is either complete destruction of

something beautiful or

nothing at all

everything / nothing

everything / nothing

everything / nothing

everything / nothing

everything / nothing

this momentous momentum is instantly interlocked

what do we do now.

is choice real

are we really that misguided

i feel like a jellyfish in a lavalamo

that has been switched off

and left got twenty years to collect dust

but no one really understands the

imperativeness of situations

this poem is dead

now tell me things

or tell me things tomorrow