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(25-03-1992 / Australia)

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The thick smog of morning traffic gently carresses my lungs with it's carcinogenic touch.

Rapid transport
at the cost of health,
a compromise i'm willing to make.

Who isn't.

Trying not to touch the person next to you on the bus
their skin feels sticky against yours.

I remember trying to get away.

I'll just stand the whole journey, that way I won't have to touch anybody.

But they smell so.

I won't breathe the whole journey.

But they're hideous.

I keep my eyes closed.
Im not on the bus anymore, I'm in the cavernous enclave of my mind;

honeycomb brilliance.

A thousand thoughts, thinking at the same time;
jostling for attention;
synapses overcome, life a mere flash.

Remember nothing, love not a thing, feel as little as possible.

The more I invest the more I lose,
I don't want to lose myself to this world of people.






Because out of the eons of evolution, she picked you, you are the culmination of perfection.

I am the most perfect incarnation of a human so far.

Yet I am so incomplete,
incompletely incomplete.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Edited: Monday, June 21, 2010

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