.high brow.

the ballad of the disillusioned
abounds with regurgitated notes
via a medium born from unhappiness
with dreams unfulfilled. the circle in which one finds himself,
so large yet so small and lonely at its
the words put forth as sifty as Saturn’s
dust and just as far, the distance between they and reality. the reality they want.
oh, the ideas are so heavy as to float over the heads of most. mentholated, they seem, but in all actual states of things they are intoxicated by their own being,meanwhile, not really floating anywhere at all. how they would love to be out of body….


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