Once again, Future stares back with its dead hollow eyes across the mindscape. She hates possibilities as much as I hate uncertainties. “Chin up, down your insecurities.”
And I knew the ivory tower isn’t the way out. Dwindling beacon circulates the dark air doesn’t see the drowning fish. “How’s the water today my friend? Come ashore.” So there’s me and there’s you, laying blocks on some very personal walls, guarding us from ourselves. You’d smoke another joint and I’d smear the gloom over stoners’ stone-made hearts. We’d laugh uncontrollably in those grim evenings, acquiesce to dementors sauntering past still lives.
Eat it up 