This is how it's going to end. it will just be over. Like a death. Nothing spectacular. The summer's end is being heralded by a girl with brown hair who doesn't smile. That's the sign. It's done. What could be clearer? Bodies go on living. Reproducing themselves for the length of their course. But this is over. This is just an idea. A shared kingdom. Created for two. Oh what the fuck. It's the same goddamn road as always. You never go anywhere else. Wipe. Slap. Har. har. Har. It's not a fucking rock and roll song. Just the same miles. I won't bother saying what I think. It's the same thing over and over. There's only two screens. Interlaced. Like fingers. Only not lovers. Something else. I don't know.

It's stupid to think anything would be different. Like a girl would be impressed by a rollercoaster. Little fucking kid. You gotta be tough. You gotta be some fucking dude. Like me cunt. Goodbye august 28. You stupid fucking cunt like-all-the-others.
Hey. Don't take mind to all this. I'm just talking. I haven't hit anyone yet. But you know I could. You better know me. Better than that, maybe you never did. Worse for you. This body is not suited for the present moment.