bowie
Ah the transcendent bastardry of life
The way a wonderful woman is always over the horizon and unobtainable
The way jealously poisons friendship
The way pretension ruins talent
The way everything reduces to blood, spit and unfulfilled desires
The way ugly old people always look so sad
The way youth festers and crumbles into middle aged mediocrity
The way my younger brother died of unknown causes in Laos
The way the Star-man never descends from the sky to take us away from this painful earth
The way David Bowie is dead
The way I can’t tell the crazy from the sane
The way the stars are pin-cushioning my brain
The way the voices of hell are in my head
The way I lie each night in an empty bed
The way it is not the way I want Universe to be
But maybe the problem is me

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