bukowski's bukkake
oh hey. you're here again. looking out of a car window. obsessively overthinking some random detail as the city lights and mundane chatter blend in with the smog into a panoramic cocktail of absolute apathy. wanting to kill yourself just a little tasteful amount. to experiment with the idea and the fun of it, but not enough to consider it seriously. Just a little swig of that exquisite wine. Just a little whiff of lady death's pussy. Toying with the idea to show yourself how little you value yourself. Why are we worrying about whether we may have been born a woman? Or whether you're bipolar or some shit. Like really crazy cuckoo shit.. There's some part of me that knows its just an escape. Or a more sinister capitalist plot to regulate the spectrum of human emotions to mitigate risk (make more money for richer people). Why are we worrying about buddhism and communism? You ain't gonna be no buddha or lead no revolution. Your consciousness is about as false as it ge...