In line, out of the way

[djmarkpaul]

Using me like a lady of the night with one glass slipper on she speaks words of sully grace and with her diamond cut windows to the soul she stares right through me as a deer caught in headlights.

GET OUT OF THE WAY!
FALL IN LINE!

Between a split second and a New York minute I find myself split in 2 too.

Firstly not knowing.
Secondly not caring.

An arbiter of my own insanity. We both sit, poker-faced, staring blindly by the likes of moles doing Ray Charles impressions in hazy underground nightclubs dressed in penguin suits. We both sit, sipping sultry chardonnay in frosted vinum glasses. Not far from us are those who found the meaning of happiness, the meaning of joy, the meaning of precarious social undertakings.

We'd rather idolize ideals, do what's right rather than what feels right. We might be playing left feild again, feel wronged to treat you right, but in the end of the night, lest we all forget, cue the bassoon before the last set.

We digress, clean our mess.