six days at the bottom of the ocean

2005-06-04, 1:13 a.m.

the tempurature is rising and all of our lakes are on vacation in cooler climates. we could all lay down in the solitude of our rooms, each loney person, or happily married couple, and place these headphones
over our ears, and fall into the deep sleep that resonates under the strings of a guitar. the tempurature is rising and all the trees are wilting, soon the airways will stretch out forever like route 66 in august. you will find warmth in your bed, and you will find an unequivocal melancholly when the warmth seeps into your muscles.

each moment is the skip on a record that blanks out the most important word of a love song. you feel a mixture of frustration at missing out and the animalistic curiousity that makes you wonder what the word could be.

maybe all this lack of movement is creating blackness so complete that the deepest recesses of space could only think of with its eyes tightly closed. i want to spin off this earth like an electron that is violently ejected into the push and pull force field just outside of the cosmcic doorway. i will rip apart when i leave, becoming less than a ray, less than a particle. this one ive never met, ill leave her an invitation to the universal dance.