The return of the sentence.

I think I'm just about regaining my ability to string a comprehensible sentence together without pausing to admire a tree, but the immaculacy of thought itself is far from being achieved. There's still a passive film of mist all over the insides, and no nosy, toothy, bristly instrument can help clear it, but I'm sure shaking it off will gradually get easier now that I've identified acknowledged it as alien.
But once that's off, I'm gonna need some sunshine and some reli spray for the back.Which is fine, reminds me I've still got a spine.

Priyanka

doo dull

Maybe some colour?

What happens when June is just a metaphor?

And now when the rain comes, we can be faithful.

June is just a metaphor with your leg around his neck,sharing his
hollows. It is a month of smooth, raw death but June is
just a poetic element that is a cave. Its a place where the
lines of the song play


when they get back, the rolling stops;
there's no one to stay with


in your head.Your Rooms collide- what happens when


we're like the nudists, the nudist of all


being June- nothing's bare.You touch it when it falls like
a dream around your hair-the dead that never saved you from
rain.Its a month of finding yourself in the puddles, but




June is just a metaphor which spells listen to me, wears a
spacesuit like it could float away to eclipse for real.Like
it could stick its head into the fridge and change
its name without getting soaked till the knee.Like the storm
that threatens to stop the music but doesn't; the calm- 


it is that month.But June is just a metaphor,on a torn
piece of soul with the only blooming hollows, lying 
facedown; on your cheek; inbetween your finger-joints 
when you can't write it down. June remains
a metaphor while love comes to you through T9 as
a typographic error.

painting on scrap paper (hence the creases)

Grey mountain, Blue love

Alone is the only answer. When the mornings are beautiful, it isn't too hard to breathe.

FUCK YEAH?

Fuck no, I have not the slightest clue what my head was doing when I made this.Funny thing is, I started off trying to draw a friend's Facebook DP and it wound up this way (nothing like the dp minus the glasses mind you; and the hair maybe) . I'm not even sure if it is apparently offensive, that's how clueless I am.

Still very far away and inaccessible

HAHAHANCOCK
What does it feel like to be the first person to be thought of, to be cast in a dream, to be set apart for this completely bewildering .. force, is the only word that fits. I get HD tv and tell you a joke about it in my head and I'm really, really funny. How is it that there is not ONE person who finds the same things funny as me.Something is wrong with me lately.Also I just couldn't care less about incoherence.