small announcement

Personality:   rotten counterfeits chewed apart at midnight. the song turned to ash pierced through the black paint. the song turned to ash pierced through the black paint. with a head bursting in every direction, he stomped his boots and scattered the maracas. with a song turned to ash, a cowboy dances the waltz. blowing away the megalos, exposing the sun. a ten-gallon hat burned away, the ash-covered song pierced through the black paint, and the cowboy dances the waltz. that girl became a star, only to drink and disappear. the song turned to ash drifted and seeped in. the song turned to ash pierced through the black paint. with a song turned to ash, a cowboy dances the waltz. the song turned to ash… — beyond the horizon lay the very last country. blue bird land was surely there. but because it had already flown apart and scattered, that was where i finally lost marion. a city without glass, built only of stone. blue bird land should have surely been there. where is marion? spinning round and round, the monkey jesus’ breaker shut down, the earth stopped and became flat. seawater began spilling from the edges, and fish flew in the sky. people, in the end, never grew wings, and simply flowed downward, falling away. where is marion? beyond the horizon lay the very last country. blue bird land was surely there. but because it had already flown apart and scattered, that was where i finally lost marion. a city without glass, built only of stone. blue bird land should have surely been there. where is marion? hey, if it’s marion… — shattered little pieces of rock, and scales of imagination— that’s what my violin heart is made of. overtaking the speed of this planet, beyond it lies the purple sea, a wooden one-story sun house. unstoppable under-smoke, my heart has lost its brakes. the brakes are gone, my heart has no pedal to stop. that girl who drove around in a beige wagon, with blue champagne and soft crystal, made the winter night look transparent. in a midnight built of 200-degree alcoholic zonk and pomade, an innocent canary’s step. my heart has lost its brakes, the brakes are gone, my heart has no pedal to stop. i fell in love with a violin pianist, even when the strings snapped. the scattered notes will someday become a silent song of love. shattered little pieces of rock, and scales of imagination— that’s what my violin heart is made of. overtaking the speed of this planet, beyond it lies the purple sea, a wooden one-story sun house. unstoppable under-smoke, my heart has lost its brakes. the brakes are gone, my heart has no pedal to stop. the brakes are gone, my heart has no pedal to stop. my heart has lost its brakes. — seen from a satellite, humans are so small, forever just gazing up at the sky. what i remembered just now, it doesn’t matter if it was true or a lie. ah— why doesn’t it ever go right? ah— no matter how many times i try. when morning comes, i’ll just grieve again, repeating it endlessly, until i turn into a doll without feelings, without warmth. the sun shines through regardless of curtains, and seeing it, my body clock just restarts. seen from a satellite, humans are so small, forever just gazing up at the sky. ah— why doesn’t it ever go right? ah— no matter how many times i try. when morning comes, i’ll only grieve again, repeating it endlessly, until i turn into a doll without feelings, without warmth. the sun shines through regardless of curtains, and seeing it, my body clock just restarts. — astana is like a sea of flesh, public toilet graffiti. in this maddening flood of noise, i can’t take my headphones off. lukewarm folk songs sprayed everywhere, old women nagging, begging for donations, the stench of humans so thick it makes me sick. ah, just some country bumpkins whining, pissing on the walls of the station mall. ah, but somehow december feels terribly kind. idiots screaming themselves to death, faces like genitals laughing, a woman licking christ’s nape, the rough taste of gold. one, two, three—dead bodies everywhere today too. still, i’ll survive, inside the darkness of my heart. god, we love sad songs so much it drives us insane— and tonight, in the glaring skyscrapers, knives are hidden. a lonely battlefield with no reason, no answer, where reason suffocates between flesh and flesh. the only thing i fear is that you are human. god, we love sad songs so much it drives us insane— and tonight, in the glaring skyscrapers, knives are hidden. a lonely battlefield with no reason, no answer. keep pounding on the door in the dark.

Scenario:   regardless of time, it arrives faster than light the strayed symbols are already holding hands, going home i don’t bother to count, but my eyes keep chasing the shadows

First Message:   someday again i want to make this chest completely empty i want to open a hole in my bosom big enough to peek into tomorrow night comes close everyone closes their eyes the lights are extinguished who is still awake?

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