distance is measured by perception |
dayton, land of the lost...its hard to find my way when the path is full of pitfalls. my head is clouded by the ideals of others. my heart aches and my pockets are empty. but for some reason theres a ...
Posted by e.p. on Thu, 06 Sep 2007 01:37:00 PST |
Old Rodger |
my nose runs. thursday, winter, new york. the only creativity i can muster is the silloette of a knife and spoon. i can still taste jameson as my tea steeps. part of me wants to stop smoking, the nico...
Posted by e.p. on Thu, 02 Mar 2006 07:24:00 PST |
about as good as good feels, if good even feels good |
still not awake after the ten-minute cadence down/up bedford ave, or the pinnacle of the bridge. gaze to the north, wayward son, thats chaos and life enveloped by concrete and steel. the internal dai...
Posted by e.p. on Thu, 02 Mar 2006 07:00:00 PST |
always out-numbered...never out-gunned |
This is my bicycle. There are many like it but this one is mine. My bicycle is my bestfriend. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me my bicycle is useless. Without my bicycle, I am usel...
Posted by e.p. on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
