Here we meet again. Confused and retarded as ever, aren't we? As lost at the little yellow sun in a multitude of stars.
The world's in my palm, only till I gobble it up, to let it be lost again.
The world, is what it is. And it really isn't what we think it is.
It is smaller. More compact. Full of shadows and games and smiles. And a few lies.
The world's in my palm. And I want to lose it. Just lose the world in myself. Because I don't care what they seem they are.
Layers of skin attached to layers of hair to the worldly-ness of the world they live in.
And thus, I just want to gobble it up.
Get lost, world.
Lose yourself. Lose me. Lose whatever holds you back. And start another fucking day.
Walking on the moon!