I'm living in a tiny town, a town with no prophets and no two eyes the same. The girl I love is long gone, a bitch with nice white teeth. Ugly on the inside and an odd beauty on the outside. I really cannot for the life of me stand her and my mother says 'Then why do you want to be with her then?' 'I don't fucking know' I reply. She has some weird magic over me that I cannot explain. Maybe she's a witch. Her personality is that of a rusty nail and she has no strength of soul! How could I ever love a woman who has no strength of soul? She sickens me to the core.

I think maybe I am a fool.

Yes I am a fool!

Oh God I think August may be lost.

I'll be on mushrooms in the grass talking to an open fire.

And step into the palace of pleasures and feel the sorrow of

my soul. There is fashion in the womb of the dead, that is where

all the blue devils entertain themselves.

Yes I am sure she is a witch!

I have just found my appetite once again

and washed in the bitter sun. This was a long time coming and so now I am

able to set the world to a different time. The

day now fresh and if only the world would set forth into the clearing

and be still.

What is that Human creature that the world seeks? Wine in a glass..Ha! I remember when love was of the spirit but now it is no more than a cheap fuck. The sense of the world is neither soul nor art. I want out of the world and into the next. Maybe 1920s Paris or 1950s San Francisco..A warm place with music in the air.

Wait..the childish night has seized and the witch is dead..