demolition

it is one of those occasions where the the night creeps up on you and grabs you from the neck...it chokes the the life out of you...clutches your adam's apple and rips it from your throat...i've gone through a pot of coffee and am shooting vodka to put me into a childlike slumber...my phone has died, and cut off my lifeline...the outside has disappeared...i am left alone with myself...joni was singing about the emptiness earlier...a woman singing about despair lends one to realize that big breasts are only one aspect of eternity...i wish sting never turned into adult alternative, i wish i never turned into an adult...but it occurred...i am the 'ghost in the machine'...i am wishing for j. daub's insight tonite...but he is living in little havana...and i am living here, far from the grace of god...the dirty walls, my dirty soul, the dirty streets are waiting for a cleansing snowfall...we are all waiting for a soft landing...