Isn't it funny how we got up one morning to see them looking exactly as the nuclear family. Daddy, Mummy and all of us. I find it to be more harrowing than that little mess in the day collar or even the speaking ham. To raise yourself to the governance of franchise you've to become eloquently worse than the competitor and so it's there they stand and I detested thinking that thought this morning as all the eyes of the little i's fell out and the sunset rose again as if it had never slept. Really, I stared right through it. For one night it did not become dark. I was able to see across most of the sky, realising its corners, as if they were, and a strange song was in my ears. Something about two lovers who were bound to one another in spite of all of their previously examined and realised desires. Birds flew about them and they stayed their course, far out beyond murder and recrimination. They were petrified. It was disgusting to see them like this as it showed us some obvious things about ourselves, about myself, under this never darkening sky. That power is corruption; authority its enforcement and this brooding family with lovers at the helm its consequence. Tired and tired and tired now, the eyes falling away I must dot them return to them make a more precious argument but really it is that simple bastardised authority which catches in the throat as the music from sunrise pierces from arrangements of clouds. Problem is the authorities of knowledges, bodies, mechanics and solar flares, these songs, we cannot proceed any other way. Let's take that lilting hill together one by one by one dot by dot by eye by eye by goodbye i.
Angela,
fading to fuck.
