call me ray. (emerald_jaguar) wrote,
call me ray.

and i checked my drivers license, i was twenty-eight years old.

ALERT CYBER STALKERS!!! Spoilers following:
there's a yellow filter cast over my life, combined with what appears to be a fluctuating trend of over-caffeinated brain palpitation and under-caffeinated cerebellum funky fog. i'm a train wreck waiting to happen, and the poverty-line skirting waitstaff surrounding me are helpless to intervene. i feel like i'm living in a constant state of existential irony.

My life has slowed down to a terribly tolerable level. I spend my days bus riding and bourbon drinking. I get paid to sleep, if only i could cash-in on the drinking and internet surfing. I need to write more, or find some other worthwhile hobby. Maybe the library could help with that, i should find my local branch and hit them up for ideas, that seams like a reasonable place to find a direction for your life to take right?

someone should hire me a hooker.
or hire me as a hooker.

without sounding like a cliche of a cliche.
and without making another song about ian curtis.
cuz... ya know...he's got enough:
you know i've had my fill of this town
i've made the most
and the ink stains my hand
until it looks like a ghost's

few feelings left
that can compare
to the shine of that stolen loot
and the loss of my share

the sight of your eyes gleaming
the sound of your voice ringing
above the din of someone singing
some karaoke of an elton john song

in some foreign bar
not too far
from home.
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