whertofore art thou, lover?

lover come back

lover wake up

i can't do this on my own, i never meant to hit you that hard, wake up, WAKE UP

wake up, Neo.

i find myself increasingly disconnected from this reality - that reality. what reality? i don't know. what was I saying? I can't really read it, I have blood in my eyes

don't worry, it's mine. in dreamworld I ran out of inflated veins so I slid an insulin syringe filled with betaphen and some sexy new china blue neuropunk into my nystagmic vein and dropped that timewarp load, sex-bending braindancer that it is I can't seem to find my way out of bed -

but then again, I drop the pin - glass shatters, dreamworld cracks. I see the realworld reflected in drops of blood. Are they on the floor, or on my cornea?

black out - red out.

read out loud

this city never 'sleeps' because to be considered asleep you have to have been awake at some point. this city is an embryo of human rot just waiting to happen.

I can get away with saying this shit because everyone's too busy molesting their kids inside at night with the curtains drawn to actually pay attention to any source of data other then Nine News or the price of petrol.

i haven't touched a speaker larger then my headphones in four days. I'm starting to forget what bass sounds like

i think i'll go steal raid the farmhouse shed for some fertiliser and diesel fuel. gonna make me a DRUM, send up a smoke signal, try and get the attention of civilisation at large

seriously, send in a fucking helicopter, I don't care if it's coming to arrest me, at least they get broadband in prison.