darkside is dead.
That was supposed to be poetry. Supposed to be about life and humanity and everything gone wrong. That was supposed to be about society.
But when Evo died, he decided that then. Decided when he laid out to die on those sheets in that ill-fitted bed. Decided my thoughts were already burning through based-down water, my mind already reeling through empty ones and zeros.
I needed that, though. Those little electrical synpases duplicating my thoughts into electronical moments. Little tiny pixels filling my mind with your mingled black-brown eyes, sending those little shudders fron blue-black spine to my muddled-up mind...
Yeah, I needed that. Needed to sort through old rubbish. Sift through old photographs that don't yellow, cyphon through old documents that don't mellow-down, don't water out, don't fade after years of misuse.
You remember how he and I thought we knew what we meant to each other. That other we -- that other "you" and that other "me". Thought we understood; thought we knew about each other. Back then, through things like "either there's no road away from here..." or worse, like "maybe take more than a week" or so. Conversations like that, had over salad and beef, over fries and a shake. Conversations we had where we were decieved.
Conversations we read, and then we delete.
He needed to break, poor broken-down Evo. Needed to rest, needed to sleep. He needed to lay his head down and dream. He needed to burn. He needed to fade.
And I'd write you a eulegy, an elegy, or both. But I don't think you'd notice now, if I tried to say so. Oh. And I'd have Fate compose you a few lyrics or two, set it to that music that always gets to me and you -- but I don't know it'd matter, don't think it'd do. Don't think it'd do much to really phase you. Or even bring you back from the ghosts, in the past where I left you.
So here, I'll say goodnight. I'll get you checked one last time. Then I'll say my goodbyes...
Dammit. I hope you're alright.
-RK
But when Evo died, he decided that then. Decided when he laid out to die on those sheets in that ill-fitted bed. Decided my thoughts were already burning through based-down water, my mind already reeling through empty ones and zeros.
I needed that, though. Those little electrical synpases duplicating my thoughts into electronical moments. Little tiny pixels filling my mind with your mingled black-brown eyes, sending those little shudders fron blue-black spine to my muddled-up mind...
Yeah, I needed that. Needed to sort through old rubbish. Sift through old photographs that don't yellow, cyphon through old documents that don't mellow-down, don't water out, don't fade after years of misuse.
You remember how he and I thought we knew what we meant to each other. That other we -- that other "you" and that other "me". Thought we understood; thought we knew about each other. Back then, through things like "either there's no road away from here..." or worse, like "maybe take more than a week" or so. Conversations like that, had over salad and beef, over fries and a shake. Conversations we had where we were decieved.
Conversations we read, and then we delete.
He needed to break, poor broken-down Evo. Needed to rest, needed to sleep. He needed to lay his head down and dream. He needed to burn. He needed to fade.
And I'd write you a eulegy, an elegy, or both. But I don't think you'd notice now, if I tried to say so. Oh. And I'd have Fate compose you a few lyrics or two, set it to that music that always gets to me and you -- but I don't know it'd matter, don't think it'd do. Don't think it'd do much to really phase you. Or even bring you back from the ghosts, in the past where I left you.
So here, I'll say goodnight. I'll get you checked one last time. Then I'll say my goodbyes...
Dammit. I hope you're alright.
-RK
3 Thought(s):
Evo. Was that the name of one of your computers?
Yes. Yes it was :weep:
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