breathing

none of this is all of it. everything drifts and everyone dies. chain link fences need mending and hearts need a good coating of that acrylic. chip the paint to reveal the love. secret handshakes and secret hugs, public transit and public plugs. the hole in your face is as large as my infinite feelings of self worth; it doesn't exist anymore. you know the math they teach won't add up to anything when the sums of your fears divide the difference between your heart and your soul. negatives are nothing but positives with a line hovering out in front. just chill. relax and spill your mind onto some god-forsaken, blank and vacant piece of paper. or pixelate your thought bubble and photoshop it into your scenic field of top friends and default pictures. the texture is magnanimous and the composition is, as far as i know, just a man who ate an apple and perverted all of our minds. then a flood came and wiped us out to cleanse the earth, but as far as i can tell the plan backfired and now we are punishing our mother, the poor planet. we better strive for mars quick before this world crumbles under our feet and kills us for being a bunch of little fucking pricks.