And as you sit in the hot tub, the February day is cooly blazing around you, apathetically beautiful, stationary and unchanging and random as fuck. You can't plead with February.
It all happened in February. The white snow that never seems to stop falling is piled up on the ground, surrounding you from every single imaginable side- snow that doesn't seem to care about funerals or a fourteen year old kid being murdered along with the rest of his family, or a care about a room with white walls and blue carpet and mints in little quaint pots (you keep coming back to the mints through the whole funeral, too, stuffing your pockets full and popp
death of an astronaut by manicalhippieboy, literature
Literature
death of an astronaut
white pinpoints, far off still
even as i'm so close
i could touch:
i fell into the large softness of a likewise empty space
through the entrance of this cylinder, revving with a silly solar-powered engine
while, at home
they tracked my flight and waited with
corkgun-jumping flying champagne bottles even though
they were still praying for my return
malnourishment makes the stars look beautiful, i have noticed, and i can almo
st see my reflection
in the darkness, or at least
since my spectacles shattered i have seen faces in each individual, dark particle
and they have spoken, most notably god,
who has said unto me that i will d
Hey Hey Hey Creepypasta by manicalhippieboy, literature
Literature
Hey Hey Hey Creepypasta
You got a job working the closing shift at your local clothing retail store, and tonight you're alone, the yellow light filtering from the tiles in the ceiling and illuminating the individual flakes of dust floating in the artificial air. It's mostly silent, a far cry from a few hours ago. The only sound is that of a distant machine, like a generator or an air vent, humming deeply like the building's lungs, and occasional clangs of pipes as the generator sings a metallic song.
There's three of you who normally go around and fix things up at night, refolding shirts and hanging misplaced articles back up while making sure nothing got stolen or
Jonny's on the porch
sweating through his clothes
Like a needle in the hay
you can tell he doesn't know.
I'm in the back of a car
going to get high for the first time
killing innocence that was always left to die
[chorus
Jonny's on the porch
Sweating through his clothes
I don't know where does Jonny go
when Jonny gets that way]
There's a needle in the basement
where do I sleep
sandpaper fingers are pointing at me
Crushed tar throat, strung out on E
trying to catch a check, trying to catch some sleep
Dropped out of school, parking lot rules
This new dealing economy
Needle in the hay
needle on the streets
needle in the base