themidnightcafe☂ and then they woke up and realized the entire century was a template and breeding ground for fakers. they poured out whatever they were drinking. they sat around on roman couches and siberian rugs, rubbing their eyelids, smoking pixie sticks and never feeling the same.

It is what we signed up for that we almost always will receive, as much tricks and thrones as we use to wiggle ourselves out of such unfortunate situations, it is not surprising when we find it is with sticks and stones that we must break down such confounding doors, and quite proudly pick up what it is we asked for, wear it on our heads like a burger king crown and march back to our spot (secluded) on the green armchair at the back of the house. So. What senses do we have now, what new bright and terrible attributes have we collected for a a year so full and thick it feels like cake already. Puff cake, with raspberry train rides and toffee peoples and summer backpacking through lime green villa’s and chocolate fences. I’m not trying to make this into a wet dream of wonka girth and volume, infact i am not even convincing myself or you how sweet this year can be. I am quite simply saying we must bite into this decade like we cooked it ourselves, that we planned the careful lettering, the capitalized “H” and “B” and “LOVE” and “NATURALLY”, the layers, the amount of eggs and bullshit and sincerity and blush and gunpowder green tea leaves. What fools are making their tumblr entries on loneliness so quickly? The first week of this fine decade has not even passed. We cannot drown is misery and fattness and clumpy makeup. Such bright gold things we are. Such tall pearl giants.This year shan’t can’t be foolish, though foolHARDY perhaps? PERhapsio. i’ve lost track (like my twitter) of what i was even trying to say, but i hope to god this year was a good one, i hope to god i wake up in the morning every day and feel magnolia’s sprouting out of my ears. I hope i grow diagonally like steps to a height that i fathom only in sleep and dreams. I hope i go to Europe. I hope we are stumbling mechanics but not empty machinary, full lips and liquid eyes, a glass lamp and the color rose on your face. A garden inside your ovary. and bells inside your voice box. and  bells inside a church. and churches on the map of your hands stretching into maps . So when i am about to close my eyes, all i see are diamonds.