the head coach was doing its job - always doing its job - transporting people around - but always bpm was its game - head beats per minute.
i needed to get to town - saturday night - finished work - needed to get me feet a stomping / lungs a contracting / brain a shrinking / eyes a dilating - getting drink/drugs/music pre loaded at home - sharing nearly everything in this sharing world - seeing where the buses were going from/past/to/this one is coming my way - there is a dancing god - i will get to town in good time.
was this the thundering train that would kill or give him life?
tied to the train tracks at clapham junction. the left/right pairs of straps tied across the railway track on that side.
many were murdered due to the sheer breathtaking beauty of the phenomenon in the sky - a lot of the fallen had no choice but to die.
how could you not stand/stare at the mesmerising swirling dancing of the veils in the air?
it didnt start with villages asking for a voluntary donation for self driving vehicles going through their village - for the noise/pollution/congestion/hassle
the modern suffragette examples of a payment for the suffering of waiting to transform a man from red to green.
it was one of the most illegal raves you could have back then. of course they are much different now - far more advanced/safer/better?
better? same happened to the old pubs i guess - dingy/stinky but alive - even if half that atmosphere/life was in the carpet/toilets.
your eternity only needs to last 5 seconds to prove itself.
the pendulum clock in the obscenely dark hallway/social/house whirred - chimed 1.
they had warned him about being unconnected/dark/uncut - its like nothing you have ever experienced - i can handle it.