Celluloid Trances

Never an honest world, never a promised tomorrow. Well, never mind.

Effervescing white sunshine in the morning and silhouettes of trees and houses and stuff. Then the gleaming rows of city lights during the life of the night. How now. Watch till you’re tired, walk up to your place of pause. And. Roam beyond the gravity of graffiti and the stares shading irises blued and grayed. Swerve and ride to the music of the higher humor, the poetic poems of the spirit. It’s insane.

Always a life, always a voice. So, remain always.

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