its not fair to carry it around

2005-02-02, 12:40 a.m.

there is a room that nobody talks about, somewhere in the bleeding jungles of africa. this is the room that was once cared for, painted white with a thick green stripe -the green of a nurse's scrub uniform- at the base of the wall. this is all gone now, the paint chipped away when the dirt and excrament scaled the bumps in the cement on their journey to the ceiling. this is where the stale and putrid air is recycled by the lungs of prisoners, skin dark as night and chests convulsing to a Mingus bass line.

you dont want to see this place, and i dont either, but its stuck here, in my head until i can get out into the fresh air. today was beautiful, yes.

nobody ever wanted this girl for her charm, they saw her weakness and they wanted to exploit it.

go idle, go away, words stay in your head longer than you think sometimes, and words become pictures when you dream.