Old haunts, old habits
Trying to remove myself from the dependency of crutchdom, I find myself revisiting places that became the staple of another time. But leaning philosophical, every day presents another time. Still, retaining some sense of civility, I am amused by the fact that at the very moment of reminisce, I stumbled across old heads from old times. They themselves were never my bar fellows, but they haunted the edges of that life. Now, I feel like I'm back on the tracks after a total derailment, and yet I wonder, like I do every morning on awakening, whether I'm just deluding myself. And yet I'm also inclined to believe that that is what it is like to chase a dream. Always infused by a vibrancy I one time tried to replicate through booze,...but far be it for me to demonise, afterall it is only those w [more]
Protected: Feck the Union Jack
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Protected: Feck the Union Jack
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This is not that poem
You can pronoun the shit out of the situation but you can still be wrong, and you’ll be made to [more]
Moving Back Again
And once again I sit Another last time to contemplate, The kitchen's almost bare The living room [more]
Love Once More
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It comes naturally
The giant drill bit seering the muddied earth A choir of angels in tow with every twist The coil r [more]
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