Destructor
Now i finally get the experience of waking up to gray skies through a small window. A room with walls that don’t fit together. A plaster house with roman glass. An exterior dyed with spilled fruit. Another house that jack built, and me inside with a sack of stones.
Nothing quite like feeling stuck in a rut with a sunset right in front of you. That’s how you don’t notice, or that’s how i don’t notice. Everything is beautiful from close enough or far enough, but when you manage just the right distance everything takes on the disgusting patina of waste and want. And it’s then that things are easy to destroy, tear down, bulldoze through, ruin, etc, etc. And i sometimes pretend that it, destruction, is more useful than harmful. It helps to get some perspective on my more usual positive and lovey-dovey attitude. But it’s difficult knowing that, even now while tearing down the I-beams of my mentality,
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