lelouch9-28

words are the translations of lifetimes. and i speak the invisible architecture of my body. there are back-lit hills in every direction; dark crests that hold the inevitability of the sea on the other side. recollections go out like the vapid ribbons of breath, occupy their origins as fragments of myself. i am everywhere i'll ever be. ever been. the other side is a perpetual expulsion; is exclusive and perpetrating; is the establishment of desire. i follow the iron shove of the river to the lake, green with cold. ice rides the water and the careful geometry of chance like triangular wax sheets. they overlap, hold w

my america's a loss collection an invention a requiem in b(urned bridge) flat reborn in insect-peppered roadside sacrament leaking dust to color brush creeping climbing hills to frame the big empty it gets me thinking pain is just something we live with it ceases only at the end of the life that it begins with and I spend every precious instant (in altered states of existence) crossing lines avoiding eyes creating distance

To create a better world Sacrifices must be made, If you have the gift, You must take the blade. So take all your chances Fight all you can. Don’t allow yourself to feel Fight for Japan. Revenge and justice, Can they really be combined? Even if in grace, you’ve fell, All’s well that ends well. Manipulated memories, Are no better than none, Being controlled, There’s no chance you’ve won.