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cinematic fractals and audio logs of insincere feeling, produced in the city of angels
calabasas was never too kind to us- jaded and morally isolated
you told extravagant stories, previously untold, you and your glassy eyes dancing through your world in the past
how you long to have witnessed some events and such, but like me, you're young
lying to yourself, forcing a fake you down your throat, only to let the real light of your persona shine through in the rarest moments
your jokes will never get old, and neither will we
i can see us centuries ago, withstanding time and admiring the youthful beauty of this land we claim to know so much
i miss you, your euphoric affliction and fascination with all things blood and gore
i think you miss me too, my fixation on love and everything more
- A.H.
