i ‘m going to write a book and the type will get smaller and smaller and harder to read as you go through it and by the time you end the book you have a horrendous horrible headache it’s just brilliant!
i just have no ideas for plots or characters or settings or anything.
today i climbed a mountain.
i may have used a car, but i’m not any less proud.
my ears popped and i think so did i. because i had no business thinking that the world was lucky to have me, even if i never make it out of the woodwork, but i was thinking it anyway.
i’m not tempted to blame anything on altitude. altitude never blamed anything on me.
hi oh hell-oh
i’m @ the bottom
just waiting for you to hit
smashd too hard to ever bounce
again
squashed skull laid bare
and a new basis
for crevices
a new reason to look
upwards
i’ll give you the lenses
and all you’ll have to do
is open your eyes.
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