something happened this decade

fried. coma state. coma smoke. hit this dippy. we can run through this mansion. the one in the side yard. obstacle course... fuckin rugged. nothing makes sense in this kind of haze. lots of guessing. naked time. hopefully with the right sex. no mistakes. no eating. tears for fears rasping out some shitty speakers... or was it led zeppelin. no mistakes. fucking retards yelling at the moon. i'm not as wasted as them. i know cause i can tell myself. i have a self. a checkpoint machine. ask me about it. i will tell you something. maybe we'll be friends. the blank slate mother fucker. real cool with a cigarette. tortured. smart and talented. say some creative shit and make them laugh. show your worth. its almost gaurenteed that you won't talk about it. too official for that. nevermind the tags. slag slamming shit. the thickness doesn't jive with my mood. i look at her different when the landscape is bland. no girls crying. no bongs sloppily held. no stumbling over curbs on the way to drive. take that piss. i'll give you cover. we shouldn't be talking. no one really cares. its habit. black hole sun. can't maintain the deals i have made with myself. my subjective court. the power of my totally randomized playlist. the way people flock to the site of my verbal intercourse. make myself a fuckin' god? easy. isolation.