hey danger, hey desperation, when we’ve stopped running after leaving buses and stopped chasing after pretty words by pretty people and stopped stopping midway, we will wake up underground maybe, and learn how to retrace our steps and keep double time properly.
i realized it wasn’t because i was running too fast, it was that the ground didn’t stay underneath my feet for a long enough time and neither does anything else, for that matter, so what is there to do but take pictures of things at artistic angles in dim rooms and erase them all later, all of them, because everyone knows that beautiful things don’t last, don’t ever stay long enough for you to realize you’re not on your feet, and that you never will be.
hey you, we will have no idea what we are talking about and we will start an unknown revolution and write the longest books that no one will ever understand and fall in love with dark-eyed girls with accents and sad-eyed boys with secret philosophies. we will be well-rounded and have deep thoughts that don’t mean anything. we will sleep in narrow places and we will be dangerous, desperate people.
