restaurant reviews

men eat whatever is placed in front of their faces; i swim for thoughts that can be kept in my head for any conceivable amount of time. if nothing is enabled, all will retain to complete horizon and resting. the best reflection is no reflection.

the family squeezed into the small booth. the side with 2 children had plenty of room, the side with 2 adults was comically uncomfortable. they all ordered soft drinks. 2 seats down, a man asked for a drink with bitters, which fell on foreign ears. he then just asked for honey and hot water. he asked what the soups were, in response to 'tortilla' and 'chicken', he said "my stomach is kinda acting up, i'm not very hungry." he continued to talk a lot as i choked on fried ice cream.

.worst part of knowledge is fact of it .try think to create but try think to sleep it's it's it's .numbers and statistics .try hard and fail .random occurrence breeds interest .everyone pays for most things with cost benefit time relation to thoughts worthlessness .wood glue .professionalism in an empty restaurant is wasting valuable interaction space .every house walked by witnessed the loss of energy .spaced out to sound of spinning .energy to machine .energy and consciousness given to all repetitive motion that involves .fan and air conditioning unit lulls to sleep .fan and snore given credence and precedence in dream and meaning .only due to state, non-energy, non-occurrence .on off on off completely takes all function time to in in in breathe



[don't support anything]

metal seeks safety

the sharp and complete shapes of metal grow towards the softness of clouds. they amass at human junctions and intersections of commerce. species interstate with port and transport, prestige and numbers; the results scrape sky. large buildings with windows like diamonds put arms around each other as if to rejoice at victory. naturally, every human takes pleasure in and subsequently owns this victory and feels the need to name these buildings, to revel in their strange alien glory, to feel like their sight of such buildings embodies scene, spectacle, emotion, happening. as homage, every human carries a small box and contraption, one which contains a perfect and manipulable eye, perfect due to it's construction, it's mechanistic structure, it's malleable and change-based function. every human (well, most humans) tend to flock their sight and light capturing machines towards these large buildings, almost in a way that makes flesh and chemical reaction a conduit for metal communique. the living and respirating just can't get enough of fucking downtown.

my mouth yearns for the touch against skin, the simple pressing of lip's satin surface against a cheek, an earlobe, an unsuspecting neck well received. it's the dull outer surface comprised of such an amount of dead skin, with some nerve connections but muted close to pause. but it's still able to feel. when these lips connect with others, the conduit they travel to reach each other encompasses words, traditions, scents, gestures, currencies, feelings, awkwardness, shaking, time, frustration, sobriety. the leading up to this dam deconstruction and obliteration seems so endless that it's spray painted on every wall i walk by. once this happens, it seems like it's been happening for so long, that i'd only just realized that i haven't connected for like 8 months. 8 years of sundries. i close my eyes as i lie in buildings comprised mostly of plastic, metal, wood, brick; i slowly lose the desire as i forget about touch, only as i pull away from another's skin once again. i like and lie in buildings.