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Stream of consciousness

I’m bored (third time this year, max).

so here’s two minutes of non-stop, unplanned, writing.

anthology of cross mixed with the drum and bass of music in my ears like twigs, im falling off a bike and down the sky at the same time and Nick catches me but the twigs of music keep playing, supermario that i never played but i can relate, im walking around in my little adventure box, tick tock, sister cries out in the background, my shoulder hurts, that physiotherapist is going to whack me into paralysis and i wish my yellow country skin and more bad singing, twig-like music, the twig likes music, outside and beside dance i miss you Rhodes the dance and the building I am building an anthology of life breath and what real friends are.

Written while listening to the first two minutes of “The Skin of My Yellow Country”, don’t know who it’s by.


Comments on: "Stream of consciousness" (2)

  1. Sies on you my noo. The Skin of My Yellow Country is by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and I’ve got that whole damn bad-singing album. You miss Rhodes? Or you miss Mr. Nick? πŸ˜‰

    • I miss both πŸ˜› There is something magical about the drama department πŸ™‚ and those green fields on campus.

      I don’t miss my digs much at the moment though πŸ˜› Going back is gonna be eeeenteresting.. We have two possible candidates for the empty room. I reckon, it can’t really get much worse though. I mean I’ve already dealt with messy, dirty, unreliable, unhealthy housemates. So unless a seriously heinous bitch moves in, I reckon we can only get better.

      Imagine if we get a loud evangelical christian!!! I’ll get exorcised πŸ˜€

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