The goofy words that come out of my mouth, that I like to call art.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
I have obtained this seemingly tangible craving for dust and grit lately. This coarse lust I compulsively abide by. I intend this in the context in which I have placed it, no metaphors... You know that dirtied gritty feeling left on your hands after removing a pair of rubber gloves or writing with a piece of chalk? I covet that feeling between my teeth, grinding in some manner most would find chaotically unpleasant.